Music Notes
by penofsarah
Summary: Christine meets Erik as a young child when he begins to give her piano lessons. After her father's death she must learn to live with the phantom. When she gets older and meets Raoul the phantom is not pleased.
1. Default Chapter

**Chapter 1**

The first time we met was at a music shop. My father was talking with the shopkeeper, and I was left to my own devices. I was enamored with a grand piano. It sat in the corner looking magnificent. I tiptoed over to it and pressed a key. A wonderful sound came from it. I was in love. "Christine!" My father whispered sternly at me, and shook his head. "Do not touch." I nodded to him that I understood. Instead I sat on its fine bench, and fingered the keys, careful not to press down on them.

I traced every curve and line of the wood and the ivory. I didn't notice him behind me until he asked; "Do you know how to play?" His voice was deep, deeper than my fathers, and rich and smooth. I'd never heard anything like it before in my seven years of existence. He moved to the side of the bench where I sat. I shook my head, "No, Monsieur." I looked at him. He wore a mask. I wondered if he had come from a ball. He was tall and broad. He was dressed in all black, and a cape draped around him.

He flipped his cape behind him, and sat down next to me. "Allow me to teach you something then." My head did not reach his shoulder, and his feet were planted firmly on the ground while my own dangled above the floor. I look down and say, "But Papa, he said I am not to play." The man turned his head to the shopkeeper and my father, then back to me. He leaned in and said softly, "Then I shall play for you."

His hands gracefully moved over the keys as he played a beautiful piece of music. I did not even look to see if my father was watching. I was hypnotized by his playing. He stopped abruptly and turned to me, "Well, my angel, your thoughts?" I stared at him with wide eyes, "Could I learn to play that, Monsieur?" He smiles, "Perhaps one day." He stood up then and held out his hand, "Come, child, let me speak with your father." I took his hand. My whole hand was covered in the black leather of his glove. I stood up and he led me to where my father stood.

I tugged on my fathers jacket, "Papa, Papa." My father puts a hand on my arm, "Not now, Chris-" He stops when he sees the man in black. A frown crosses his face; "I apologize Monsieur for my daughter. I did not realize she was bothering you." He gives me a stern look. The man says, "No, no, she is not a bother at all. I wanted to speak with you privately about music lessons for her."

They spoke a minute in the corner. I strained to hear what was being said, but could not make out the words. Then the mysterious man bowed to my father with a flourish of his cape. He looked at me then turned and left. My father came back, "Papa, what did he say?" He bent down and picked me up, "You're going to have piano lessons, Christine. Starting tomorrow." I hug his neck, "Oh thank you, Papa." He chuckles, "You're welcome, darling." He put me down. "What is his name, Father?" He frowns, "You know, Christine, I didn't think to ask, and he never said. You can ask him tomorrow. Come along, time to go home."

In the carriage I ask, "But why does he wear a mask?" My dad shakes his head, "I don't know. But Christine, it would be rude to mention it or ask about it. Do you understand?" I nod, "Yes, Father."

The day of my first piano lesson I was excited. I barely ate breakfast, and was distracted in my studies. Several times my tutor had to correct me. Finally, finally, the time came for lessons. Papa said that I was to go to his house for the lessons. On the way there he instructed me in my manners, "Be polite, Christine. Don't contradict him; do as he says. Don't stare at his mask." I say, "I know, Papa, I know." He helps me out of the carriage, "I know you do. Have fun, darling… Do you want me to stay?" I barely hear him. I'm staring up at the castle of a house before me. It seemed a thousand times bigger than my own home.

I shake my head, "No, Papa." He kisses me on the cheek, "Go on then darling. I'll wait until you're inside." I take a deep breath and walk up to the massive wooden door. Before I can knock the door opens and he's there. He bows slightly to my father and ushers me inside. I can't help but gawk at the lavish décor of the foyer. I hear a soft chuckle, "Come now, my child. We must begin." He takes my hand and I follow him. We go through room after room, all rich in fabrics and furniture.

Finally we come to a room. The only thing in it is a grand piano. A beautiful grand piano. "Are you ready to begin?" I nod breathlessly, still looking at the piano. He nudges me forward gently. I sit down at the piano and he sits down next to me, just like the day before. "Monsieur," I ask, "What should I call you?" He doesn't look at me. The side of his face that is not covered by the mask faces me. "What would you like to call me, child?" I think a minute. "My other teachers, they tell me to call them master. Master of books, master of maths, master of language… You can be Master of piano."

He looks down at me. I can see the mask now. It's a soft white, and seems to fit his face perfectly. Almost like skin. "During your lesson you call me, Master. At any other time, I insist on Erik." My eyes widen, "Your first name, Monsieur? But, Father, he says I must mind my manners. I cannot call you by your first name." He waves his hand, "Master Erik, then. Now, let's begin."

He started by teaching me the keys, and how my fingers should rest on them. It was not long before I was frustrated. "Master, my hands are too small. It is hard." He puts his hand over mine, "No, not too small. You must learn to fit them to fit the keys comfortably." I try again, but again my finger hits the wrong note. He says, "You're frustrated. We stop." I look down, "Are you angry?" A large hand covers my shoulder, "No, not angry, Christine. It will take time. You must learn to be patient."

I look at him, "I am trying." His voice is soft, soothing, "Shhh, of course you are. Do not feel bad. Do you have a piano at home?" I shake my head, "No, Master." He's quiet. "Do have the room for one?" I nod, "There are many places big enough for a piano." He nods, "I will speak with your father about having one moved in, then?"  
"A piano, Master? But, they are very expensive. I don't know if Papa will want to buy one." He shakes his head dismissively; "I'll take care of it. You must have something to practice on. Now, no more talk of it. Play the scale again."

I obediently put my hands on the keys. This time I don't make a mistake.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

As lessons passed I progressed. Two years had passed. He taught me to play simple tunes at first, then more challenging ones. He scolded gently when I made a mistake, and placed his hands over mine to show me the proper way. He scolded harshly when I didn't practice or didn't practice enough. I hated for him to be disappointed in me, but when he was pleased I always knew. He lavished me with gifts; dolls and dresses, music boxes and necklaces. He was always respectful, never touching me, except for my hands, when he taught me to play. And over time I learned to call him Erik.

Everything changed when my father took ill. Father insisted I still go to piano lessons, even when I begged to stay by his bedside. Erik knew right away that something was wrong when I arrived for my lesson. Instead of going straight to the piano room as we always did, he led me down a different hall and through different rooms. He stopped in a room that was dark. It had no windows; the only light came from various candles placed throughout the room.

I edged closer to him, not liking the feeling of the darkness. "Oh, let's leave." I whispered, "Please, I don't like the dark." I feel him move next to me, and find myself being lifted into his arms. I put my hands on his shoulders, "Master, I am scared." He brought me closer to him; "There's nothing to be afraid of here, my child. I'm here; nothing can happen to you."

He moves father into the room, and lowers into a chair. I move closer to him, "Papa is sick, Erik." He says nothing. "I am scared for him. I hear the servants, they talk of him dying." His hand goes to my hair stroking it, playing in it, "Christine, love, there's nothing I can tell you, there's nothing I can say to you. Death is a part of living, child." I look up at him. His eyes seem to shimmer, his mask seems to glow, "He can't leave me, Master. I will be alone!"

His hand moves to stroke my cheek, "Not alone, my angel. I will be with you, always." I put my own small hand on his cheek that is not covered by the mask. I feel him flinch beneath my fingers, "Do you promise?" His hand leaves my face, and covers my own hand, "I promise."

He gently removes my hand from his face. "Close your eyes, child. Listen to the sounds of darkness." I shut my eyes tightly. The tips of his fingers dance over my eye lids, "Not so tight, Christine." I relax, and shut them gently. I wondered how he could see me in the darkness. "I don't hear anything." I say. "Shhh… You must listen first, my angel." He whispers. I can feel his cool breath caress my face. His face must be just in front of mine. I don't dare open my eyes. Instead, I concentrate on listening.

Slowly the sounds come. I hear my own breathing, then his. I sense him move away from me, then gather me to him again, pressing my cheek against his chest. And then he sings. His voice is hypnotizing. It is soft and hard, light and harsh, kind and cruel, loud and quiet. I hear the words rumble in his chest, then resound in my ear. I want to burrow closer to him, yet at the same time, I wish to run. I open my eyes. The soft glow of the candles makes eerie shadows on the floor, walls, and ceilings. I almost close my eyes again.

I remember his words; _"there's nothing to be afraid of here. I'm here; nothing can happen to you."_ Instead I focus on the small flames of the candles. They seem to flicker and dance in time with Erik's song. They appear to dim when he sings soft, and brighten when he sings loud. I find myself mesmerized. The words to his song float through my mind, barely making sense.

_I was lost  
Swimming in the black  
Can't move forward  
Can't turn back.  
Black above me  
Nothing below  
The sound of silence  
Is all I've ever known._

I weep gently. Why was he so sad? His hand moves up and down my arm. It's comforting. When he stops singing I almost cry out. His hand drops from my arm, and I miss the warmth. He says quietly, "It is time for you to go home now. There will be no lesson today." He wipes my tears with the back of his hand. Gently, he sets me on my own feet, taking my hand, then silently leads me out of the dark room.

_Phantom's POV_

As I walk with her back to the main entrance she is quiet. She holds my hand tightly. I hate to see her upset. I silently curse her father. But if he did die… She could live with me, be with me. I could watch her, teach her, love her. I did love her. She was only a child. She could understand nothing of what I felt. One day I would tell her everything. One day she will give herself to me. One day she would understand everything. One day she will know that she belongs to me.

But for now let her think of me as teacher, as master. Let her see me as her protector, her guidance, her angel of music. As much as she belonged to me, my heart belonged to her. Her small voice interrupts my thoughts. "Will you come with me, teacher? Come with me to see father?" I hesitate, "I do not think I should, child. He needs his rest." She tugs on my hand, "But he wants you to come, he said. He wants you to come. He was going to send a note to you." She looks down in shame, and says quietly, "But I forgot it. He says it's important, he must speak with you."

I open the wooden door for her, letting in the outside air. Her carriage is here. She doesn't go outside, though. "Will you come?" Her eyes are so big, so trusting. I cannot disappoint her, "I will go, child."

She is quiet the whole way to her home. She sits close to me, her gaze fixed on studying her own hands. She doesn't appear to notice when the carriage stops at her house. "Christine, we're here." She jumps slightly and looks up at me. "Ok." She says softly.  
Her house is grand with many stories. I follow her inside.

_Christine's POV_

I wait outside Father's room impatiently. Erik was in there now. I tried to listen at the door, but the wood was too thick. I heard nothing. I sit quietly, instead. To pass time I walk to the room where the piano is kept. It's a magnificent piano. As good as the one I practice on at Erik's house. I try to remember my song from last week, but I make many mistakes.

Frustrated, I go back to wait outside Father's room. This time I don't wait long. Erik comes out. I try to read his expression, but as usual I cannot. He says, "Your father wishes to speak to you." I look into the room and see Father lying on his bed. When I turn back to look at Erik he is gone.

I tiptoe into the dim bedroom. "Papa?" I whisper. "Christine, child, come closer." His voice is weak. I sit on the side of his bed, "Papa, how do you feel, Papa?" His face is pale, his eyes are sad. "Christine, listen to me. I have something to tell you." I nod, "I'm listening, Father, tell me." "Darling, I am weak. I fear I don't have much longer." I shake my head, "No, Papa. Don't say that. Why are you saying that?" "Please, my darling, I am not going to abandon you Christine. I promise. I've given you an angel. He will take care of you. When I am gone you will go with him. Do you understand this, my daughter?"

I nod my head, "But, Papa, who is he? Who is my angel?" He places his hand on my cheek and closes his eyes, "You will know, child, you will know." His hand starts to fall from my face. I catch it and bring it to my cheek again. "No, Papa. Please say something. Don't leave me here. Papa! I love you, Papa!" He whispers so softly that I can barely hear, "I love you, Christine."

I throw myself of his chest and sob, "No, no, come back! Papa, come back! I need you, Father, I need you." Strong arms grasp me from behind and pull me off of his body. I struggle, "No, no, let me go. Let me see him!" Strong hands hold me close to a solid body. I am being carried away. Out of Fathers room, down the hall, down the stairs, and out of the house. I sob and scream, "No! Let me go! Let me go! Why are you doing this!"

I feel myself being lifted up. I am on a horse. One arm holds me in place the other is on the reigns. We're leaving. We're going farther and farther away from Papa. My pleas are lost to the wind. My struggles are no match against the strong grip I am in. Exhausted I slump against the broad chest behind me. I feel my body shaking as my sobs subside. I close my eyes, and let sleep take me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_Phantom's POV  
_

She sleeps restlessly, tossing and turning in the bed I've laid her in. Her breathing is shallow. She cries out for her father. I arrange a blanket around her again; she struggles and twists out of it, kicking it to the end of the bed. I lean down and brush my lips over her cheek then sink heavily into a chair by her bed.

How would she adjust to her new life? Could she learn to be happy here? Would she long for her old life? I know I could make her happy if she'd give me the chance. She must learn to trust me, not as a father, but as her master. She was still young enough not to question me, but her years as a child are few. She would be ten years in just a few months. And after that, a few short years, and she would be a young woman. What then? Would she still accept me? Or would she grow to hate me?

A small moan escapes her lips then, and her eyes flutter open. I stay seated waiting for her to realize where she is. She sits up abruptly when she sees me. Her eyes immediately fill with tears, "Master? Why am I here?" She slips off of the bed and walks over to me. She puts her hand on my knee, "Where is Father? I want to see Father." I don't meet her eyes, "Your Father is gone, Christine." She backs away from me, "No, no he's not. You lie! You brought me here, you took me away from him." I stand up, angry, "No, Christine, I did not take you away from him, he left you." Tears are streaming down her face, "No, he said he wouldn't leave me. He said! He's waiting for me!" She turns around and makes for the door.

I easily catch her and turn her to face me. She struggles, small fists beat into my chest, "No, let me see him!" I hold her firmly, and force her to look at me, "Stop this, Christine. He is dead, Christine, there's nothing I can do. You'll stay with me now." She shakes her head, "No, he needs me! He needs me!" She tries to push me away, "Let me go." I try to calm her, "Shhh, now. It's going to be ok. Let me hold you, Christine." She struggles even more, "I don't want you. I want Papa!"

I tighten my grip on her, "Do not deny me, child." She cries, "You're hurting me, stop! Stop." I easily pick her up, laying her over my shoulder. She beats my back with her fists, "Put me down! Put me down. I don't want you. I don't want you." I hurry out of the room and down the hall. She is hysterical now; I have to calm her down.

I burst into my study. I open a desk drawer, and take out a small vial of powder. I sit down, keeping one arm tight around her. "Stop," she pleads, "You're hurting me. You're hurting me." I ignore her. With my other hand I pull out a handkerchief. I open the lid to the bottle with my teeth and tap some onto the handkerchief. I quickly hold the cloth over her face. Her tense body tries to pull away from me. Then the powder overtakes her. I feel her start to relax. I pull away the handkerchief and sigh. As her breathing steadies, I loosen my hold on her. I stroke her hair, "That's it, calm down. Calm down, now. That's better."

She didn't breathe enough of the solution to put her to sleep. She is quiet, though, her tears have subsided. I ask her, "If I let you go, now, are you going to run?" She shakes her head no. I relax my grip on her completely. She remains in my lap. "Good girl." I whisper, "That's a good girl." She says then, her voice shaky, "I, I didn't mean to anger you." I kiss her hair, "Shhh, I'm not angry anymore. It's all over now."

She asks slowly, "Are you… are you my angel?" I say, "Yes, my child, I am your angel. I am your master. You belong to me. Do you understand what that means, Christine?" She says hesitantly, "Yes… wait, no. What do you mean?" I tilt her chin up, so that she looks at me, "It means you must do as I say, always. It means that you will be mine forever." Her soft brown eyes bore into me. She was so innocent. Finally she says, "Ok, I will do you what you say, Master."

I gently set her on the ground, "Come along. I will show you your room. I don't think you had a chance to look at it." As we walk back I explain, "There are some rules that you must follow. While I will take care of you, I cannot amuse you every hour. You will continue your studies and your lessons, but in your spare time I will provide books and things to keep you occupied. If you should require anything, all you have to do is ask. When I tell you to do something, do it. Keep your room clean. Have all of your school done before you do other things. Do you understand all of this?" She nods silently.

I go on, "This is a big house. It is very easy to get lost. I should prefer it that you stay in your room until you learn your way around your part of the house. Any questions?" She shakes her head. I open the door to her room. "Your things will be moved in shortly. As for your tutors, I will teach you myself. We'll do your schooling in the morning. Then I have things to do. We can work on piano in the evenings. " She leaves my side and walks around the room. Fingering things and studying them. "Do you wish for me to stay with you?" She looks at me then, "No, I want to be alone now, thank you." I nod, "As you wish. I will be back later."

_Christine's POV  
_

I sat on my bed. I felt tired. I think back to the handkerchief. What had he done to me? I remember how angry he was, how tightly he held me. Oh, Father where are you? Why did you leave me with him? He angered so easily. I must remember not to make him mad. Even though he had left the room it still felt as though he was here. I could almost feel his eyes on me.

I wanted to leave the room, but I was afraid of getting lost. I closed my eyes. I did not like this. "Papa," I whisper, "Do not leave me here." I stood up. I could not stay here. I searched the room and found a basket of sewing supplies. I took out a spindle of thread and put the basket back. Keep your room clean, he had said.

I quietly open my door, almost expecting him to be standing there. I peer up and down the hallway. No one. Carefully, I tie the thread to the door handle. Unraveling as I walked I went the way I thought was out. I prayed he did not come across the thread. I would need it to find my way back if I could not find the door. I walked timidly, trying not to make any noise. I opened a door. It was an empty room. I close it again. Door after door revealed an empty room or an unused looking furnished room.

The next door I try is locked. I press my ear to the door. What could be behind it? I heard nothing. As I walked further and further down the hallway I heard music. It's very faint, I have to strain to realize it is violin. I turn down another hall, still unraveling my thread. The music sounds closer. I walk towards it. It was so beautiful. I feel drawn to it.

I'm jerked out of my daze when the spindle runs out of thread. I want to cry. What was I to do now? I look behind me. I could go back to my room. I can still hear the violin, though, and it's so close. I bite my lip and drop the spindle. I would have to go the rest of the way alone. The hallway comes to an end, giving the option to go left or right. I take one last look at the spindle lying on the ground, and turn left, towards the sound of the music.

Deeper and deeper I go, past doors and down hallways. I'm sure now I'll never find my way back, but I can still hear the violin. It's louder now. So loud. I freeze. It's stopped. No, no, please. I hold my breath, praying I'd hear a strain of it. Nothing. I look behind me. How was I going to get back? Oh, how? I sit down and lean against the wall. I should have never left my room. I fold my knees to my chest. It was so lonely without the music. Where was the music? I wipe the tears from my face.

Papa where were you? I bury my face in my arms and cry. It feels like hours I sit there. I dare not move for fear of losing myself in this house completely. Who could ever want to live in a house like this? Softly I begin to sing, for fear I will panic if I do not hear something. It was so quiet. I sing a song my father had taught me. _Father. _He was gone, dead. My voice cracks and I can't sing anymore. I cry instead. Why did you leave me, Papa? Now, I am lost and alone.

I lean my head back against the wall. I hear a voice say, "Christine." I sit up and look around, "Hello? Is anyone there?" I call. My voice echoes down the hallway, but no one answers. I must have imagined it. All of a sudden a gust of cold wind blows through. It chills me through. One by one every candle lined on the walls goes out. I begin to shake. No, no, not the dark. The breeze is gone, but the cold lingers in the air. I whimper. There must be a window somewhere, but where? It's so dark.

I bite my lip in an attempt to keep from crying. The darkness can't hurt you. Goosebumps rise on my arms. I blink and the tears roll down my cheek. I am angry with myself. All I had done today was cry. I close my eyes to try to block out the darkness, but the cold remains. Shakily I start singing again. The gust blows through again and I stop abruptly and open my eyes.

Papa, Papa, come back. Oh please. But he can't come back. There's no one here to help me. Only Erik and he'll be so angry with me for leaving. I whisper his name, "Master." He was the only one who could save me. "Please, find me." I plead. My voice is weak, and the darkness seems to swallow it. "Please." I whisper.

The flame of a candle appears in front of my face. I am dreaming, I must be. But it can't be a dream. I can feel the warmth on my face. Then as clear as the darkness is around me a voice says, "Why are you here?" It is Erik. He sounds displeased. I open my mouth to say something, but the words are stuck in my throat. I try to see his face, but I can't see past the candlelight. He speaks again, his voice is cruel this time. "What are you afraid of, Christine?" His voice lowers to a whisper, "The dark?"

I find my voice, "Please, Master, take me back." His voice is dangerously soft now, "To where, Christine? Where do you want me to take you?" My voice shakes, "To my room, Master. Please, I just want to go to my room." "But, you were already in your room. Do you remember? I told you not to leave, do you remember?" I swallow, "Yes, but I…" "Yes, go on. You what?" I say softly, "I wanted to look around. And then I heard this music. A violin, Master. It was so beautiful, and I was just trying to find the music. That is all. But I got lost, and then there was wind, and the candles went out. I'm so afraid of the dark…" I trail off. I didn't know what else to say.

"What did I say about the darkness, Christine?" I whisper, "That it couldn't hurt me.  
He prods, "If…" I say, 'If you're there." He says curiously, "But, I wasn't there was I, child." I shake my head, "No, you weren't there, Master." "Tsk tsk tsk." He makes a disappointed sound with his mouth. Then he blows out the candle. I gasp as darkness once again settles around me.

"I will not tolerate being disobeyed, Christine." What was he going to do to me? His large hands take my shaking ones. "I see I have punished you enough." I ask, confused, "What do you mean, Master?" A gloved hand brushes my face, "Don't you know? I was there the whole time, Christine. All you had to do was say my name. All you had to do was need me. Come, you've had a very trying day. We will eat, then you must bathe and sleep."

He pulls me up. Through the darkness I follow him back to the light.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_Phantom's POV_

The next morning I went to see her. She was dressed, sitting in front of a mirror brushing her long brown hair. She looks at me in the mirror but says nothing. I clear my throat, "I trust you slept well?" She only nods. I walk over, "May I?" I extend my hand for her brush. She turns around and gives it to me, then turns back to face the mirror. I run the brush through her hair. It's soft as silk. I brush gently, not wanting to hurt her.

"There's something I want to show you, Christine." I set her brush down gently, "Come with me." She stands and allows me to take her hand and lead her out of her room. I stop outside her door. Look at the door handles, Christine." I had tied different color ribbons to each door. She looks up at me confused, "What do they mean?" I'm relieved to hear her voice, to know that she was still speaking with me. I smile, "Allow me to explain. If you wish to get to the library you follow the blue ribbons. Follow yellow to the piano room, red to your schooling room, violet to the kitchen, orange to my study should you need me, and white ribbons always lead back to your room from each destination."

She repeats slowly, "Library, blue; piano room, yellow; schooling room…" She frowns, "I forget." I point, "Red." She smiles, "Oh yes, schooling room, red. Kitchen, violet; your study, orange; and my room; white." I squeeze her hand, "Very good." She tugs my hand, "But, Master, where do the green ones lead to?" I touch her chin, "I was hoping you'd ask. Come along, that's what I wanted to show you." I lead her down the path of green ribbons.

I stop at the final door, "Here we are, the gardens." I open the door. I hear her gasp, "Oh, it's lovely!" I follow her outside. She leans down and smells a rose bush. "You mean, I can come out here whenever I want?" I nod, "Yes, anytime. This way you shall never get lost. I expect that you will learn your own way, eventually." She barely listens running from one flower plant to another.

"Come this way. There's more." I lead her to a clearing where a swing is tied to a shady tree. A gazebo stands to one side, a fountain to another. She walks over to the swing and sits in it. I walk around behind her and begin to push her. "Higher!" She calls to me. I smile. She was happy. I push a few more moments, "Stop now, Erik. I want off." I bring her to a slow stop. She jumps off and comes to where I stand. She smiles, and then gives me a hug. I close my eyes and wrap my arms around her shoulders. I hear her muffled voice, "Thank you." I whisper, "You're welcome."

I release her, "Darling, there are things I must attend to now. You may stay here if you wish. Do you remember your way back?" She nods, "White." I stroke her hair, "Good girl. I shall return later." I take a piece of paper out of my pocket, "I've written down where each color of ribbon leads so you don't forget. I want you to memorize these today. You should be able to recite them to me by evening." She takes the paper, "Yes, Master." I look at her one last time before I go inside. She is sitting on her swing studying her paper.

_Christine's POV_

I stared at the paper he had given me. And where was the way out? Out of this dark house? High walls surrounded the gardens; I'd never cross them. A thought crossed me mind. There must be some way into the gardens from the outside, a gate. I stand up and look around. As I had expected there was a gate. I ran to it and tried the handle. It was locked. I peaked through the crack between the gate and a wall. It was a padlock on the outside. There was no way to get to it from inside.

I circle around the entire wall and find no other door. I wished my room were not so high up. I would now gladly climb out a window. I was scared here. Erik could be so kind and gentle and in the next moment be angry and harsh. I did not know what to make of him. I did not want to belong to him. I did not dare tell him this; I knew it would not please him.

I sit back down on my swing. I drag my feet back and forth in the dirt. My shoes are getting dirty, but I don't care. I was so lonely. It was somehow better when he was with me, at least I wasn't completely alone. He wasn't so bad to be around when he thought I was happy, that seemed to make him happy. All I could do was make him happy.

_Years passed. Eventually I did learn my way around his house, although there were still hallways I never ventured down and doors I didn't open. I learned quickly what I was and was not to do. My piano playing abilities matured greatly. He had also taught me violin, but his favorite thing to teach was singing. He took great care of me. Spoiling me with gifts still. I didn't see him as a father figure, but as a teacher, and as someone who I was to obey always. It was the night of my sixteenth birthday…_

Erik had devoted the whole day to me, as he always did on my birthday. Not once did he disappear into his rooms to do whatever he did down there. He had special meals prepared, and had given me presents throughout the day. We had just returned from the opera; it was spectacular as always. He had reserved, as usual, his box seat.

Erik was hanging up my coat. I suppress a yawn, "I do believe I'll change for bed, now." He touches my arm, "Please come to my study when you've finished. There's something I must talk to you about." I only nod. As I made my way to my room I wondered what he wanted to tell me. With Erik you could never really know. He was so hard to figure out, a true mystery.

I never knew what would please him and what would anger him. I still hadn't told him about Raoul. There was always a chance he would be pleased. Raoul came from a fine family, the kind every girl hopes to marry into. But something told me he would not be pleased. In my mind I knew he would disapprove. He often reminded me he was to be the only man in my life. Not so directly or in so many words, but the subtle hints were there.

I couldn't understand why he still had me with him. Surely, music lessons were not the only reason. He didn't treat me as his daughter, though. Perhaps he knew I would never accept him. I could never betray my real father. Maybe he was just lonely. Still, though, he seemed to avoid me more and more in the past few months. I would never understand him or his ways. And he didn't seem to plan on ever revealing anything personal.

I still wondered what lay behind his mask. When I was younger I had made the mistake of trying to take it from him. He went mad. He pushed me away so violently I fell. He yelled, and threw things, knocked over tables and candles. Then he swept out of the room slamming the door and locking it. My door remained locked for two days. I was beginning to think he was never coming back, when he finally did let me out. He said nothing to me, only glared. After that I didn't see him for weeks. When he finally did appear he made it clear I was not to ask of that again. He didn't have to tell me; I would have never even mentioned it, after that.

I reach my room and quickly dress. I didn't want to make him wait. He hated waiting. I knock on his study door. "Come in." I hear him call. I open the door. He is standing in front of the fire his back to me. "Have a seat." He still doesn't turn around. I walk over to one of the chairs near the fire and sit. I fold and unfold my hands. Why was I nervous? He turns away from the fire and walks to the door. I had forgotten to close it. He shuts it now, and I hear a soft clicking noise. I forget to breathe for a moment. He was locking the door.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Ok, I'm giving this an R rating now... it's getting kind of dark. I hope you all like the next two chapters... be honest.**

**Chapter 5**

"I had planned on speaking with you on an entirely different matter tonight, but something has come to my attention that I must address. I came across something today that greatly surprised me. I thought you could explain it." I try to remain calm, "Perhaps, if I knew what you spoke of." I hear him walking towards me. He stops behind my chair; "I shall enlighten you. You received a note today, Christine." My heart skips a beat. Raoul. I had forgotten to check. "The peculiar thing about this note is that, rather than sending it care of post, it was tossed carelessly into the bushes in the garden. Do you know who would have sent you a note in the most strange fashion, Christine?" I can tell by his voice he's playing with me. He already knows who sent the note.

"Maybe if I read you the letter that would refresh your memory." I stand up, "No, Erik, I… I'll take it, thank you." I'm panicking. A cruel smile plays his lips, "No, no, Christine. Please, allow me." He reaches into his vest pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. I recognize the handwriting that spells my name. It was Raoul. He unfolds the paper and clears his throat, "My Dearest Christine," He begins. I put my hand on the armrest of the chair beside me, "Please don't do this." I beg him. It was all I could do now.

He ignores me, "Please accept all of my best wishes for your birthday. I do have a gift for you, which I will give to you tomorrow. Meet me in the normal place between the rose bush and swan fountain at three in the afternoon. I must confess to you… Our secret meetings frustrate me. I wish I could take you out like a normal courtship. I suppose the only thing that really matters is seeing you, Christine. I send my love and will look forward to having you in my arms once more. Yours forever, Raoul."

Erik folds the note calmly, so calmly that I take a step away from him. "Christine." He says darkly. I try to explain, "It's nothing, Erik. He's just a friend, really." He reaches out and touches my face with the tips of his fingers, "Nothing." He says softly. His fingers trail down to my neck and he says his voice shaking, "Only nothing?" His hand closes around my neck. I grab his wrist with my hands, 'No, Erik. Please, don't." His eyes flicker dangerously as he steadily backs me into the wall, "Don't do what, Christine? This?" His hand tightens around my throat. I plead, "I was going… I was going to tell you. I swear, I was."

"But you didn't. You lied. By not telling me, you lied." He starts gently stroking my throat again, "Why did you lie, Christine? Why did you betray me?" His voice is soft now. I unsuccessfully try to stop myself from trembling, "It just happened, Erik. I wasn't trying to hurt you." He says, "But you did. Very much so." He says quietly, "Does he touch you, Christine? Do you let him caress you?" He leans closer to me. I can feel his chest heave against mine; "Can you still feel his lips on yours?"

He has me pinned against the wall. I know I'm not going anywhere. "Do you like it when he touches you?" His hand runs slowly up and down my side. "Does it feel good?" I turn my face away from him. His hand touches my face softly, "Look at me, Christine. Answer me. Do you like it?" I whisper trying not to cry, "Yes." I feel him tense. "You do?" He moves even closer until he's completely pressed up against me. My face is buried in his shoulder. He whispers in my ear, "Tell me, Christine. Tell me how he touches you." I hear myself whimper. "Don't be frightened now. Do you think I'm going to hurt you?" Hmm?" His lips brush my cheek then he whispers, "I can make you feel as good as he does." I shiver and try to push him off me "Please don't, Erik. You're scaring me."

His solid body doesn't move, "What have I always told you, Christine? Who do you belong to?" I close my eyes and whisper, 'You." I feel him move away, his hands cup the sides of my face, "Say it again, Christine." I open my eyes, "You. I belong to you." He leans forward and presses his lips into my forehead, "Yes. You belong to me. Me. No one else, not Raoul, me." His hands slide down and grip my arms tightly, "Why do you make me do this, Christine? Why do you have to me angry?" I shake my head, "No, Erik. It's… I… Please don't be mad. I'll do anything you want." His grip tightens even more and I cry out. "Anything?" He asks darkly.

I bite my lips as a tear rolls down my face, "Yes." His voice is soft again, "Oh… Raoul has made you cry. No one makes me angel cry. Don't worry he won't make you cry anymore." I gasp, "No, Erik. Please, do what you want with me, anything. But leave him out of this, please, I beg you." He pulls me away from the wall and roughly pushes me to the door, "You feel for him? How kind of you to show compassion." I stumble into the door, using my hands to steady myself. I turn around. He's walking slowly towards me. His face shows no kindness, no pity, only a look of complete despise.

I try the door handle. It's locked. He had locked it. He's in front of me now, glaring down at me. "Going somewhere, Christine?" I sound braver than I feel, "Let me out of here." He smiles, "You'd like that wouldn't you? You could go warn your young friend." I don't even try to keep myself from crying now, "I won't see him anymore, I promise you." "I know you won't see him anymore, my love. I can promise you that you won't see him again." He almost growls the words. I scan the room looking for another way out. There are none. "Please, Erik. Leave Raoul out of this."

I feel a flash of intense pain in my face, and it takes me a moment to realize what had happened. He had struck me. "Do not say his name again!" He roars in my ear. I grasp my throbbing cheek in my hand, "I… I'm sorry." He had never hit me before. My vision blurs and clears then blurs again. I back into the door and sink to the ground. "Stand up." It's a command. I try to rise but fall to the floor again. "Stand up." Louder this time. I whisper, "I can't." I look up at him. His expression is unchanged, no compassion. He kneels down before me. His hand goes to my face. I flinch, even though he only touches lightly.

"Kiss me, Christine." I cry harder. "Look at me Christine." He lifts my chin up so that I'm forced to look at him, "Kiss me, Christine." He says again. There's nothing soft in his voice, only cold hard sternness. I shake my head, no. His grip on my chin tightens, and I know I'm only angering him. He leans in closer. I try to back away, but there's no where to go. "Do it, Christine. I won't ask again." I bite my lip, and shake my head no again.

"There's nothing as simple, my darling. Nothing that says more. And you deny me this?" I close my eyes. "Please…" I beg him, "Please don't do this." He drops his hand from my face, "But you make me do this, Christine. You can only be mad at yourself." Opening my eyes, I shake my head, "You don't have to do this, Erik." He takes my hand and brings it to his face. I try to resist him, but he's too strong. The white mask is cold under my touch. He moves my hand to the uncovered side of his face. His eyes are closed as he whispers, "But I do."

He rises and pulls me up with him. He holds me to him, my back against his chest. Slowly he lowers my hand from his face. With one arm wrapped around my waist he unlocks the door. He hisses in my ear, "You beg for me to stop, yet you don't ask for forgiveness. You shudder when I touch you, yet you let that ignorant boy put his hands on you." He throws open the door, and drags me out of the room and down the hallway with him. "Must I make you beg for forgiveness? Is that what you want?" I nearly trip as he pushes me forward, his hands gripping my arms tightly.

He stops at my room and roughly pushes me inside. I catch myself on a chair and stumble to my bed. He closes the distance between us and pulls me up to face him, "I gave you everything. All that you asked for was yours. You only had but one thing to give me in return. Yourself. And instead you betray me." I grit my teeth, "I'm not yours!" My words hit him like a slap in the face.

He backs away from me, unbelieving. For a long moment he stares at me, then turns and strides away from me to the door. He slams it shut behind him, then opens it again, "Know this, Christine. You are mine. You can never escape from me. I would think, Christine. I would think a lot. Because the day comes when I will claim you. So, I would think a lot about how you want that to be!" He slams the door, and I hear him lock it. I collapse on my bed, and let myself cry.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

I open my eyes. How long had I been sleeping? The events of the previous night flash through me mind. I want to cry again. What had I done? I shudder. What was he going to do? He'd asked me to kiss him. I could bring myself to do it. He had scared me. My stomach knots up. Raoul. What was he going to do to Raoul? I looked out the window; the sun was just coming up. I sat up; I had to warn him. I had to save him. But how? I stand up and go to the door. It's locked, as I knew it would be. I go to the window next. I open it; the cool morning air hits my face. Look down, I know it's too high up. I could never get down. I was trapped. Helpless and trapped.

I sit down and put my hands in my face and cry. I cry for Raoul. I cry for myself. I would never understand Erik. He could be so kind, so gentle. Last night he had been cruel. A memory crosses my mind. He had hurt me. He had hit me. He'd always promised he would never hurt me. Was I doomed to live with this monster forever? No, I would get out. I had to get out. I went to the window again. So far down. I look at a tree; it's too far away from the window to be of any use. Unless…. Yes.

I ran from the window and took the draperies off my bedposts. I tied them together, then tied the window curtains to them. I looked for something to tie them to. I eyed the locked door. Quickly I tied them to the door handle, securing the knot as tight as I could. I took a deep breath and threw the bundle of fabrics out the window. They didn't reach the bottom, not even close. But I wasn't trying to reach the ground. I look at the top of the tree. I planned to climb down as far I could, and then swing to the tree. It would an easier climb from there.

I go back to my room and use yet another sheet to tie up some of my belongings in. A doll Father had given me, Raoul's letters, my journal, and some clothes. I took one last look around then went to the open window. First, I let my bag drop to the bottom, then slowly and carefully I ease myself down the makeshift rope. I was shaking. It was hard, my muscles trembled. I didn't dare look down. As I watched my window slowly get farther and farther away I half expected his dark face to pear down on me. Oh, please don't find me. Steadily, I reached the bottom of the rope. Bracing my feet against the brick of the house I pushed myself away from the wall towards the tree. But not far enough. I tried again.

This time I reached the branches. I grabbed onto them for dear life. I was going to make it. I carefully let go of my rope. I watched as it swung back to the brick wall. This was it. Now all I had to do was get out of this tree, and I would be free at last. As I eased myself to the next limb I realized this would be easier than I thought. I placed my foot on one of the branches below me. That's when I heard the crack. As the branch gave way I felt peculiar. I was falling through the air. I scream and try to grab onto another branch, but it scrapes out of my hands painfully. That's when I felt the back of my head connect with another branch. Then it all went black.

_Phantom's POV_

It was her scream that finally pierced through my playing. I had sat for hours playing the piano, venting my frustrations. I stand up right away. I stride out of the room, and easily find her room. I unlock the door and walk in. Right away I know what she's done. A trail of sheets tied together leads from the door handle out the window. I curse. What had I done? I should have never left her alone to her own devices. I break into a run as I head outside. I feared the worst. She would not survive a fall from that high up. I round the corner of the house, and see her.

She's lying motionless, her nightgown spread around her. I race to her side. "Christine?" I brush her hair out of her face. I press my fingers to neck, checking for a pulse, "Come back to me, baby. Come on." I feel a slight thumping under my fingers. I let out a breath. "Oh my God, Christine." I drop my head, "Forgive me. Please forgive me." I eye the bruise on her cheek. The bruise I had caused. Gently I gather her in my arms. I feel her arms and legs, checking for broken bones. Nothing, thank God. I run my fingers through her hair, and feel something wet under my fingertips. I withdraw my hand, blood glistens on the tips of my fingers. Cursing, I stand up, gently lifting her with me. I spot a sheet tied into a bundle on the ground. She was running away. Of course she was. She was running away with him. Away from me.

I carry her still body back into the house. I bring her to an unused room, and carefully lay her on the bed. I finger her soft face. My poor angel. I take her hands in mine. Her palms are bruised and bloody. Bits of dirt and leaves cling to her hair and gown. I turn her hands over, and bring the uninjured backs to my lips. I kiss each of them softly. Then I try to arrange her as most comfortably as I can. I stand up and leave for my study. I needed things to dress her wounds. I gather my supplies: needle and thread, ointment, bandages, and clean cloths. Next I fill a pot with water. I take these to the bedroom. Next I go to Christine's room and choose clean clothing for her.

I hang the pot of water over the fire. I would need to clean her up, and cold water wouldn't suffice. She deserved better than that… She didn't deserve this. I should have never left her alone. How could I have been so blind? Why wouldn't she run away? She had the reason. I know I scared her last night. She was so infuriating sometimes, though. How dare she have a relationship with that… boy?

"Where am I?" Her voice is faint, barely a whisper. I go to her side. "It's ok, Christine. I'm here. You're going to be ok, now." I try to make my voice soothing. She looks up at me; I can see the fear in her eyes. "I thought I was dead… I…" I place a finger on her lips, "Shhh… You're all right, somehow… You must not have fallen from very high." She closes her eyes, "It hurts, Erik." I nod, "I know… I'm going to take care of you." I turn from her and gather my supplies. I set them on the table beside her bed. "Are you mad?" She whispers.

I begin methodically threading the needle; "I'm disappointed in you, Christine, yes. But, I'm happy you're alive… What were you thinking? Do you realize how high up your room is? You could have been killed…" I trail off, "I'm sorry, now is not the time to scold you… I just… You scared me. But no more talk of it now. We can discuss this later." She looks away. I sigh, "Now… I'm gonna need you to sit up for this. I'll help you." She nods, still avoiding my eyes. I stand up and bring the hot water over. I carefully pour some into a bowl, and replace the pot. I place one of the clean rags in the bowl, and ring it out.

I lean down and put an arm around her shoulders. Slowly I sit her up. "Oh… I feel dizzy." She murmurs. I wince, "I'll go quickly. I promise." I sit on the bed, "If you could lean forward into me Christine, I think I can get a good look at this." I try to move her as little as possible. She hesitates, then leans forward and presses her face into my chest. I shift around trying to make her comfortable. I carefully part her hair. I feel her tense. I say, "I'll be gentle." I take the warm rag and carefully clean out the wound, getting out the dirt and bits of tree out. "How did you do this?" I ask, "Were you climbing the tree?" Her heads nods up and down. I shake my head, how she had reached the tree was a mystery to me.

I discard the cloth; satisfied the wound is clean now. I take the needle next. I pause, "This is going to hurt… Would you like something to dull the pain?" Again her head nods up and down. I carefully lay her back down, "I'll be right back." I race to my study and scan through the many bottles I had stored in a cabinet. I select one and go back. Her eyes are closed. I sit down next to her. Without a word she lets me help her back to her former position. I unscrew the bottle, and carefully dab some of the cream onto the wound. She hisses, "That stings." I rub my hand up and down her back, "I know. Only for a minute."

I blow on the cream, then pick up the needle again. I work as fast I can, stitching up the cut. She is tense the whole time, but never cries out. I dab some ointment on the stitches, and secure a small bandage over the area. I fix her hair, and lay her back down. Next I pick up one of her hands. I begin cleaning it with a new cloth. She closes her eyes, "Did you… What… Is Raoul ok?" My jaw tightens at his name. "Is that who you were running away for?" I ask. She opens her eyes to look at me, and nods. I take a deep breath, "I haven't harmed the boy." I rub some ointment on her hands, and start to bandage her hands. "But you're going to." She whispers.

"I don't have much of a choice the way I see it." She gasps then. I realize I've pulled the bandages too tight. I wince, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that." I unwind the cloth slightly then wind it back again making it looser. "Are you bleeding anywhere else? I need to know." She shakes her head, no. I stand up and rinse my hands in clean water. As I dry off I say, "I brought you some clean clothes. You need to wash off and change, ok? I'll leave for a moment. Can you manage by yourself?" She nods and sits up. I nod, "All right then."

I start to leave. "Can you… Um, can you help me out of this?" I swallow and turn around. Her eyes dart to the floor and back to me, uncomfortably. I walk back to her bedside. She turns around, exposing the ties and buttons in the back. I begin to untie the ribbons, and undo the buttons. As I expose more and more of her back, I come to an ugly bruise. She flinches as I finger the skin. "Was it worth it?" I ask. She turns back to me; I rest my hands on her sides. She stares up at me, her big, brown eyes so innocent and afraid. I look down; "I'll come back in a moment."

_I leave her, closing the door behind me. Leaning against the wall outside the room, I sigh. What was I going to do with her? How could I make her succumb to me willingly when she was so afraid? She was too in love with that fool anyway. The very thought of him angered me; I have to unclench my fists. He was a distraction to her. I needed to erase him from the picture, or… Maybe there was a better way to do this. Yes. I would make her choose. To my liking of course. I smile to myself. The broken girl within that room would choose me. She would have no other choice._


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Ok... disclaimer... I don't own the characters in the previous chapter or the next two...**

**To the reviewers!**

**Aasia - Nope, wasn't planning on making Raoul abusive. I've never liked that either. It just seems way out of character. I don't particulary like him either, (seems kind of wimpy to me) but I do think he loved Christine, so that will be him in this story.**

**Leah - Ahh! I can't believe I didn't catch that. oks, and gonnas and all that. I went back and corrected them all and will update the previous chapters soon. Chap. 7 and 8 should be "ok" free. Thanks for the tip. ;) **

**And to everyone else... thanks for reviewing. I really can't comment on whether Raoul will die or live seeing as I haven't really decided, so you'll just have to keep reading lol. **

**Sorry about the lack of updates, but I'm typing this on a differnet computer, so I have to save the chapters to a disk, get them to the other computer and all that. It's kind of a pain. Chap. 9 is about half-way finished, so I'll try to have at least one more chapter up by Mon. or Tues. **

**I'm actually really happy with these two chapters, (8 especially), so enjoy!**

**Chapter 7**

_Christine's POV_

I use the clean water he had left to clean off as best I could. The bandages wrapped around my hands made it difficult, but I managed. I slip into the clean gown, and sit on the bed to wait for him to come back in. I knew he would have to secure the back this time as well.

He was mad. I could tell. I could also tell he was trying to control his temper, but I knew as soon as he was sure I was all right, a talk would come and then what? What would happen to Raoul? What would happen to me? There was no way to get word to him now. Erik would never leave me alone now. I feel tears form in my eyes. Hastily I wipe them away, I mustn't cry. I had to be strong for myself, for Raoul. Oh, Raoul. I wish he were here now. He could save me from this desperate situation.

I gasp as I feel his hands on my back. "Oh… I didn't hear you come in." He slowly secures the back of my gown. I want to shake his hands off, but don't. As he does the last tie, I turn around to face him. His dark eyes seem to go straight through me. I focus on his mask. I had gotten so used to seeing it now, but I still wondered what lied beneath. I hesitate, but reach up and finger the white surface. He visibly tenses. He reaches up and lifts my hand off of his face, "Don't Christine. Not when you imagine it as that of the face of your lover." I turn away offended, "I only saw you, Erik." I shake my head and look at him, "And Raoul is not my lover."

His expression darkens, "Oh really? What, do you plan to save your dignity, your innocence, only to give it to him later?" I look down, "I…" He moves closer, not touching me, "You what, Christine. Am I right?" I sit down on the bed, "I don't know…" He kneels in front of me, "It's not a complicated question, Christine. Are you saving yourself for him? Why bother when your beautiful innocence is already tainted by his touch?" He lowers and pears up at my face, "Already tainted by his lips…" I meet his eyes, "What do you want from me?" He whispers, his cool breath washing over my face, "You. Just you."

I swallow, "Why?" My question surprises him, I can tell. He frowns, "I've always wanted you, Christine. I knew, even when you were a little girl that'd you'd always be mine. He leans in and whispers, "I knew that one day we'd be together…" He pauses, "…in every way." Feeling uncomfortable with his closeness I scoot back onto the bed, and hug my knees to myself. He stays kneeling by the side of the bed; his eyes are on me, though. "Please don't do that." I say. His eyebrows crease, "Don't do what?" I look away from him, "Look at me like that." I feel the bed shift and I know he's sitting on it now. "Look at you how?" He says in a low voice.

I look at him, "Like you're looking at me now." He doesn't break his gaze, "Why? Does it make you uncomfortable, Christine?" I nod."Does your precious lover look at you this way? Do you mind when he does?" I grow angry, "I told you, he's not my lover." He says harshly, "Oh, but he is, Christine… You've already given your love to him. What difference is a union of the soul and heart than a union of the body?" I sigh, "I don't want to talk to you anymore." He chuckles, "I hardly think the choice is yours my dear." His voice drips with sarcasm at the words 'my dear'.

I turn my back to him; I would ignore him if I had to. He keeps talking, "This house can get very lonely, Christine. I would know. It's always better when there is someone to talk to." I don't say anything. The bed shifts again and I hear footsteps, 'Come, I'll show you where you can sleep." I say bitterly, "I'm fine here, thank you." The footsteps stop, "No, you need a clean room, a clean bed, and a room in which you can't jump out the window." His words are mocking, but I don't feel like arguing, so I stand up and follow him. It's a long walk. He leads me down hallways and stairs I don't recognize. He keeps me close to him, holding my arm, maybe so I won't fall again, maybe so I won't run.

I hate the silence so I say, "I've never been down here before." He looks at me then but says nothing. So much for that, I try again, "It's cold down here." He stops and glances at me annoyed. Then he takes off his cape and drapes it around me shoulders, "Better?" I sigh, "Yes." I don't say anything else; he obviously wasn't in the mood to talk. Finally he opens a door with a key, one of his locked rooms. It's as lavishly decorated as the other rooms in the house; I can't understand why he had to choose this one. I look around then realize there are no windows, I shudder. I didn't like it in here.

"You're not actually going to lock me up all alone in here are you?" I ask him eyeing the solitary room. He is lighting candles around the room; "I could stay with you, if you prefer." I don't know what to say. Was this some kind of a test? I didn't like the idea of being alone any more than I liked the idea of being with him. Instead of answering I say,

"I'm not tired. What do you expect me to do in here?" He lights the last candle and looks at me; "There are books..."

He walks back towards the door, "I will return later to keep you company. I have some things to take care of." And he is gone. My stomach sinks, Raoul, he was going to hurt Raoul. I sit on the bed in surrender; I had failed him. In every way I had let him down. He was so gentle, so kind; the complete opposite of Erik.

I shiver when I think about what Erik had said. _The day comes when I will claim you…_He wouldn't. I swallow, oh but he would. And I would be powerless to fight him if that was what he wanted. I don't even want to think about it, but it sticks in my head. I remember a song he had once written. _How long should we two wait before we're one. _The line echoes in my mind. The words had been so empty then, but now carried so much weight. Oh, Father, how could you leave me with this man? He will be the end of me.

I pick up a book he's left. Perhaps it would keep my mind off of things. The words seem to dance across the page; I can't focus. I force myself to pay attention and struggle through the first chapter. It was useless. I toss the book on the bed glumly. I can't stop thinking about Erik. I march over to the door and throw my weight into it. My eyes prickle with tears, my body was already sore from falling, that had made it worse. I beat the wood with my fists. "Let me out." I plead. I didn't care if he couldn't hear me; I cried and begged anyway.

Exhausted I slump to the floor. It was hopeless. I examine my stinging hands. The bandages are ragged now from the rough wood of the door. Blood seeps through them freely. I grimace at the searing pain. I eye a shard of wood on the floor. Without thinking I pick it up and drag it along the raw flesh of my other palm. I wince, but bite my lip and do it again. Stop this Christine. Don't do this to yourself.

I drop the piece of wood. I drag myself to the bed and lie down. It was so cold in here. I spot his black cape at the end of the bed. The soft velvet lining would be warm. Drawing my last bit of energy I pull it over myself, not caring if I bloodied it. It was his fault anyway, all his fault. My hands throbbed, my head was pounding; I clench my teeth and close my eyes. Let them hurt; it didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered. Raoul would be dead; and I would live the rest of my life here. It was all over now.

I must have fallen asleep. When I open my eyes he is sitting in a chair across from me. I close my eyes again at the soft light of the candles. The light made my head throb, and my eyes sore. "You've done quite a number to yourself. Really, Christine… I'm quite confused, actually." I don't open my eyes, "Confused with what?" I mumble. "I wonder what could have driven you to hurt yourself like that."

I don't move or open my eyes, "As if you don't know…" I hear him moving around and I tense. "You can open your eyes now. The candles are out." I do, and am greeted by darkness. "I didn't hurt your young suitor if that's what made you do this. I had far too many things to do, than to waste my time on him. Perhaps I'll get to him tomorrow, but if it helps you sleep tonight, know that he is safe." He was lying; he had to be.

"I've taken care of your little makeshift rope, and I brought you these." I can't see what he's talking about. He explains, "Your bag of belongings you packed. I'll admit the letters from Raoul were my favorite part. What a little charmer." He's mocking me. "You read my letters?" He answers, "Of course I did." I try to figure out where he is in the room, but it's hard to tell. His voice seems to be everywhere. "Those were private letters." I hear him settle into the chair again, "Not anymore. I would have expected you to realize by now, Christine, that everything of yours is mine. Just like all that I own is yours."

Ignoring my splitting headache I sit up. My hands sting when I move them. "What are you doing here?" He says matter-of-factly, "I told you I would come back and keep you company, did I not? But if you'd rather be alone… In the dark…" He taunts me knowing I don't like the dark. I can hear the bitterness in his voice. I rest my forehead in my hands; it hurt so badly. I hated the dark. If he left I would never be able to find my way to light a candle. I say weakly, "You can stay." He says mildly amused, "I knew you'd warm up to me."

I hear him shift in the chair, "Here, I have something for you to take. It will help your headache." I lift my head out of my hands. I can't see where he is. "I'll help you take them, since I imagine you would have some trouble managing yourself." I remember my hands and look at them even thought I can't see them. I hear him stand up and walk to the bed. He must be right in front of me now. Could he see in this darkness? He must be able to; he moved with such smoothness and confidence.

I feel him sit next to me, his arm goes around my shoulders, "Here, open your mouth." I obey and he drops a small pill onto my tongue. I feel a cool glass on my lips. He tilts it, and a small amount of water fills my mouth. The water feels good; I hadn't had anything to drink since… my birthday. Was that really only yesterday? I swallow, "Thank you."

He remains next to me, "Of course. Let that calm your head, then I'll light a candle and have a better look at your hands."

I nod, figuring he could see me. I hear him set the glass of water on the ground. I wanted more but I didn't say anything. His now empty hand caresses the side of my face. Gently he forces me to rest my head on his shoulder. I don't even try to resist him. "Its going to all be all right, Christine. I promise you it's going to be all right." He whispers. I close my eyes. It was almost comforting. I remembered the bruise on my cheek. He was acting so differently from that. I would never figure him out.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

_Phantom's POV_

She allowed me to comfort her. I wasn't sure why, but I didn't dare question it. I let my hand slowly slide from her face, down to her neck. She tenses slightly. I say softly, "Relax." Her breathing is becoming shallow, she's nervous. I stroke her neck lightly, trying to calm her. I let my hand drop lower, and brush the tops of her breasts. She tries to sit up then, but I hold her to me, and say soothingly, "Don't think. Just give in to it." I begin to sing, trying to make her calm.

_Nighttime sharpens  
Heightens each sensation_

I drop my hand and settle it on her stomach. It rises and falls quickly. Running my hand across her waist, I lean in and sing in her ear. Her eyes are closed.

_  
Darkness stirs and wakes the imagination  
Silently the senses abandon their defenses _

I rest my hand heavily on her breasts. I can feel her heartbeat quicken. As I sing, I let my lips brush her cheek.

_Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor  
Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender_

I shift and move back behind her, pulling her to lie up against my chest. I let one hand rest on her stomach and the other cradle the side of her neck.

_  
Turn your face way from the garish light of day  
Turn your thoughts away from cold unfeeling light  
And listen to the music of the night _

I kiss the top of her head. "Why did you stop?" She murmurs. I sigh, "It's… It's not the right time, Christine." She says quietly, "Oh." I take one of her hands, "Besides, I need to tend to your hands." I move out from behind her and stand up. She is still as I light a candle and bring it to the bedside. I examine her hands. The old bandages were dried onto the wounds. I finger the new long gashes on her palm. She had made those. I sigh, and begin to remove the bandages.

She winces and looks away, her face twisted in pain. I try to work quickly and carefully. She says through clinched teeth, "I… I ruined your cape. I'm sorry." I had seen the cloak already. I grab a clean cloth to stop the bleeding in the reopened wounds. "It's just a cape, Christine. It can be replaced." I pour cleaning solution over her hand. She tries to pull her hand away. I blow on her palm, "I know this hurts, but it has to be done. We can't risk infection.

Now I wind a new bandage around her hand. I try to make sure she can at least move her fingers. I begin the same process on her other hand. It's a little better off I'm glad to see. I work a few more minutes. She watches me the whole time. "All done." I say finally. She withdraws her hand, "Thank you." I stand up and clean my hands on a damp cloth, "I'm going to go get you some food. I'll return shortly."

_Christine's POV_

He didn't lock the door this time. I wait a moment, then cautiously get up and open the door. The bare dark hallway is all I find. I go back inside and pick up the candle he had lit. I can make out a large room at the end of the passage. Curious, I make my way towards it. I feel something furry scurry past my feet. I freeze. Oh not rats. I bite my lip and keep going. The room is big and open. An organ stands against the wall. I walk towards it. Pages and pages of sheet music are scattered about it.

He composed so beautifully. I have the urge to play one of the pieces but refrain. He had never shown me the organ before; I wasn't sure how to play. My hands wouldn't take it anyway. I set the candle down and finger the keys careful not to play any of them. I move on and come to a music box resting on a small table. The figure of a monkey playing the cymbals rested on top. I make it play and a jingle fills the air. I smile; I liked it. Carefully I set it down.

What was this place? Why didn't he just keep the organ upstairs in the normal part of the house? I look around, what was all of this? I walk over to something covered in sheet. For a moment I hesitate, but then pull the sheet off. I take a step back. It's a dress on a mannequin. It's long and elegant, and obviously a wedding dress. The realization hit me, and all of a sudden I didn't feel good. This had been his plan all along. But he wouldn't actually… He couldn't could he?

"You weren't supposed to see that." I gasp and spin around. He's standing in the entryway. I step away from the dress, "I… I didn't mean… I didn't know." He cocks his head to the side and walks towards me. "You didn't think there was a reason it was all the way down here? A reason it was covered up?" His voice is level, calm; his pace is steady, smooth. I take a step back, "I'm sorry." He says shaking his head, "I must say, the past few days I've been very disappointed in you." He gestures to the dress, "Are you surprised, Christine? I mean, really… weren't you expecting this anyway?"

I shake my head slowly, "No, I didn't think-" He cuts me off sharply, "You didn't think I'd want to make an honest woman out of you before we came together? Do you know me at all, Christine?" I look down, "It's not that. I did not know of your intentions." He stops in front of me, "Perhaps I should make them more clear then." I calmly take a step back, "Erik… I… I can't. I love Raoul." His eyes flash with anger, "He makes me happy, Erik. Don't you want me to be happy?

He looks down as if considering something. I have backed up all the way to the organ now. He stays his distance. "You know, Christine, I'm really not liking this Raoul boy. In fact I could happily kill him and lose no sleep at night." He looks up at me, "But I'm not the one who's going to make that decision." I frown, "What do you mean?" He takes a step towards me, "You see, Christine, you were so upset when you thought I had hurt him that… I just couldn't bring myself to mess with the boy. Instead I thought I'd let you decide."

I have a bad feeling, "Decide what?" He starts closing the distance between us, his long strides eat up the floor separating us. I eye the door behind him. If I ran… Even then I wouldn't know how to get out of his maze. He stops in front of me. He puts both hands on my shoulders surprisingly gentle. He whispers, "It's him. Or it's me. It's your choice." I eye him cautiously, he was playing with me. He wasn't going to let me choose. "It's so simple, Christine. Let me explain if for you. Choose Raoul, go and live a happy little life. Get married, have children… but I will haunt you for the rest of your life. I'll always be watching you. You will never be safe. Raoul will never be safe. Your children will never be safe."

His words send chills down my spine. He leans in closer, "Or, choose me. Let him go. Let him meet someone else, fall in love with someone else, and live the rest of his life carefree and happy. Choose me, or you will be cursed the day you did not do…" He voice drops to a whisper, "All that the phantom asked of you." I shudder at the name he called himself. I shake my head, "You wouldn't…" His face is so close to mine now I can feel his breath, "Dare you underestimate me?"

The door. I had to get out of here. He would never let me pass. "What will it be Christine?" I take a deep breath, "It won't be you." Without thinking I reach up and brush his mask off. I don't even look at the face underneath. I had caught him off guard giving me precious few seconds to get away. "Damn you!" He yells after me. I don't turn back. I race up the stairs trying to remember the way out of here. I can hear him behind me. I had gotten a head start, but he was gaining on me. I dash out of the stairwell into a hallway. Which way? Which way?

Panicking I try a door it's locked. They're all locked. I'm wasting time. I turn down another hallway. I had to get out of here. I hear him enter the hallway as well. I mustn't let him catch me. He was infuriated. I head up another stairwell. Nothing looked familiar. At the end of the steps I'm expecting another hall but come to a door instead. No, no, this wasn't happening. I try the door. The handle turns freely, but the door is stuck. It won't budge. No, please, please open. I throw my weight into it. It doesn't move. I hear him coming up the stairs. He's walking. He knows I'm trapped, and he's taking his time. I shake the handle.

Tears of frustration stream down my face. I can see his shadow now creeping up the stairwell. It was no use. I sink to the ground, huddling in the corner. I can see him now. He's carrying a candle. He had put his mask back on. "What are you afraid of, Christine?" I back up even closer to the wall. He's so close now. His tall, broad body blocks the way down. He kneels in front of me. I squeeze my eyes shut. "Look at me." I open my eyes. His face is right in front of mine. "Go on. Take the mask off again." I shake my head, "No." He grasps my hand and brings it to his face. "Do it. We settle this now."

My voice shakes, "I don't want to." He holds my hand to the mask, "You have no choice now. You must face this. Do it." Trembling I carefully pull the mask away from his face. He watches me calmly for a reaction. I can't stop myself from gasping. I catch myself from looking away. Don't offend him. Don't offend him. Half of his face is badly disfigured. Parts look as though he was burned or marred, yet other parts looked scarred and distorted. What could have done this to him? How did this happen? I reach up to touch the skin; he stops me. "Don't." He says firmly.

He looks away from me and replaces the mask. He looks back, "You've seen. Now there are no secrets between us." I look away; I can't face him. He says quietly, "You know all of my intentions. And now I must know yours." He puts a gentle hand on my arm, "Choose, Christine. You must choose." I look down and shake my head, "But how can I? You've given me so little to choose from." His hand moves up and down my arm. He's trying to seduce you, Christine. Don't give into it.

I let out a deep breath. "I can't do this anymore. I can't figure you out. I just want…" His voice is soft, calming, "What? What do you want?" I shake my head, "I don't know. You're so hard to read. Everything about you can be so soft, so gentle. And then in the next moment I'm terrified of you, of what you might do. You raise your hand and strike me, but then you hold me and touch me, and it feels... Like nothing I've felt before." I wish I could swallow my words, but I've said too much already and I can't stop myself. "It's different than when I'm with Raoul. It's a lot different. It's the way you touch me. It's older and darker and steadier and I don't know how to handle it. It makes me feel…"

I'm almost crying now. He puts a finger to my lips, "Shhh. Don't say anything more." He brushes a tear off my cheek. He rises, taking my hands and pulling me with him. "Come." He whispers. I let him lead me back down the stairs and back the way I had run from. I wish he would say something. I had just told him everything, all that I felt, and all he had done was tell me to stop talking. Instead of taking me back to the windowless bedroom he passes it and leads me back to the grand room with the organ.

I see the wedding dress in the corner and shiver. He stops then and turns to me, "We need to talk, Christine." I say miserably, "You told me stop talking." He sighs, "I didn't mean it like that. I… I just wanted to explain things to you. You don't have to be confused." I leave his side and settle onto a loveseat by the organ. "I fail to see how you could say anything that would help me understand." He watches me intently. Then says, "I can show you."

My breathing catches for a moment. He says softly, "Don't you see, Christine? It doesn't matter that you can't explain or understand what you feel. All that matters is that you feel it." I swallow, "But… how-" He says walking towards me, "Don't question it, Christine. Give in to it. Embrace it." He pauses, "Ignore it if you must, but don't question it. Your emotions cannot lie to you." He sits next to me, keeping room between us. I say quietly, "Then Raoul? What emotions are those?"

He leans over, "Weak ones. What you feel for him and what you feel for me are very different." I look at him bitterly, "You know nothing of what I feel for him or you." He says, "Ah, but I do. You think you love him, but I see the look in your eyes when I touch you. You try to look away…" He whispers, "It's nothing to be ashamed of." I cross my arms, holding myself. He shifts and moves closer, "You're young still, darling. It's hard. Everything inside of you is… changing. It gets easier though, I promise."

"When you force me to make difficult decisions, I suppose that's when it gets easier?" He says darkly, "I would think the choice would be fairly easy to make." I shake my head sadly, "I don't want to hurt him, but it seems as though either way I choose… I cannot win." His arm goes around me. I try to shrug it off. "Why do you reject me?" I say quietly, "Why do you hide from me?" He says confused, "What do you mean?" I look at him, "Your mask. That mask. I've seen what's underneath but still you wear it. How do you expect me to marry you, to be your lover, when you hide behind a mask?"

He doesn't say anything, and I can't stop myself, "Your face is… yes, it's..." I search for the right word, "It's scarred, but… I'm not afraid of it. I didn't turn away." He says testily, "I wear it for you." I scoff, "If you had kept it off from the beginning you wouldn't have had to. And do you not think you're overreacting just a-" I don't finish. He grabs me violently and pushes me into the loveseat. He is upon me quickly, his weight crushing me. He hisses in my face, "Do not talk of what you nothing about! You know nothing of this face!"

He reaches up and takes off his mask, throwing it to the ground, "You know nothing of how my own mother could not face me. You know nothing of the names they called me, of the pain they caused me. Nothing!" I struggle beneath him frightened. His marred face is ablaze with anger. I sob, "I'm sorry. I didn't know. I didn't know."

He closes his eyes. His breathing is labored, his chest heaves against me. Something wet hits my face, and I realize it's his tears. He rests the side of his face against my breasts and cries. I hesitantly put my hand on his cheek. The skin there feels rough. Not knowing what else to do I stroke his face and hair. I had never seen him cry before. He had always seemed so strong, someone you couldn't break.

"I'm sorry." I say softly. "I didn't mean… I didn't know." He continues to weep. His hand finds it's way to my hair. I sigh and do my best to hold him and comfort him. Abruptly he stands up. "No." He says. I sit up, "What's wrong?" He backs away from me, "Go. Get out of here. Go to your precious Raoul. Leave me!" He strides to the organ and sits down. I stand up shakily. I see his mask on the floor. I pick it up and turn it over in my hands. Cautiously I walk to the organ bench and set it beside him.

He looks down at the mask. "I said leave." He says harshly, not looking at me. I back away. He stands up violently knocking over the bench, "Get out!" I turn and run back the bedroom.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

I close the door and lean against it to catch my breath. What had I done? I see a tray of food on the bed. He must have set it there earlier then gone to look for me. I sit on the bed and draw my knees to myself miserably. Go to Raoul he had said. Did he really mean it? If I could only find my way out of here… I can hear him playing the organ. The song is harsh and loud. Why had he done that?

I should have never said those things about his mask. Why does it matter if he wears a mask? I think back to his face. I was beginning to understand him. It was me. I hadn't rejected him when I was a child. Of course he would want me to stay with him forever. I was the only one who had ever… loved him? Did I love him? Not like I loved Raoul, right? Did I even love Raoul? They were so different. Raoul was so unsure of what he was doing when he touched me. Erik's touch was measured and firm, not like Raoul's fumbling hands at all.

It was darker with Erik. It was more sexual. With Raoul it was… not like that. It was lighter. Looking back it almost seemed like a game. We were both so young; how could we know what to do? But Raoul never had hit me, never had scared me or raised his voice… I close my eyes. I couldn't think about it anymore. I pick at the food he had brought. I couldn't eat either. Maybe he was hungry. Did I dare bring him food? His playing was softer now. The songs were no longer angry, they sounded almost sad.

I take a deep breath and leave the room. I tiptoe back to where he was. I stand by the entryway watching him. His mask still lay beside him; he hadn't put it back on. He doesn't appear to notice me or if he heard me he's ignoring me. Why I do care so much that he's mad at me anyway? The music is soft now. He begins to sing to it. I recognize it as the song he had sang to me earlier.

I sit down and lean against the wall, listening. His voice was mesmerizing. When I was younger I would sit and listen to him sing for hours. I could listen to him all day still. He hadn't sang for me in a long time, and I missed it. I allow myself to relax and forget everything, all that had happened. His playing and singing stop abruptly. I freeze and open my eyes. He's looking at me. I stand up quickly, "I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I just-" He turns from me with out a word. I see him pick up the mask and bring it to his face.

He turns around again and walks slowly towards me. "What are you still doing here?" I stand my ground, "Did you really think I would leave?" He says quietly, "You should go." I shake my head, "Why do you say that?" He stops before me and puts a hand on my hip, "You're not happy here. Why should I make you stay… if you're not happy?" I look around trying to avoid his gaze, "But… I'm … I was happy here." He drops his hand from my side and says, defeated, "But you're not anymore." He turns away. I sigh, "I don't know if I'm happy here still."

"Go to Raoul. He'll be expecting you shortly anyway." I look at my hands and think to the bruise on my cheek, "I can't. He'll see I'm hurt. He won't let it go… He'll want to do something about it." Erik faces me swiftly, "That would be very foolish of him. Go see your love, my dear. Do not return unless you mean to stay…" He leans in and whispers, "…forever."

I look down, "What about you?" He looks away, "Do not think of me, child. You go. Come I'll show you the way to your room. You will need to change into something more appropriate." I realize then that I'm still wearing my dressing gown. I follow him silently. He doesn't make a move to help me, doesn't touch me.

I try to memorize the way back, but quickly lose track. He probably didn't want me down there anyway. He stops, "Your room is just down the hall." I make no move to go to it. He hesitates too. Finally he leans down and kisses my cheek, "Good bye, Christine." He leaves quickly not giving me a chance to say or do anything. I sigh. There was nothing to do now but dress and meet Raoul.

I dress hastily, struggling with the ties. I do the best I can manage. I take one last look around the room. Erik had cleaned everything; nothing remained of my attempted escape. Was I really free to leave? Would he really let me go? I sigh wistfully and close the door. I walk slowly to the gardens. Was I really leaving? Could I leave him? What would he do without me? Could I really live without him? But how could I continue to live with him?

I enter the gardens. By the rose bush and swan fountain he had said. I rest against the fountain to wait. My heart was pounding. What if he didn't come? I push the thought out of my mind. He had to come. "Surprise!" I spin around. There Raoul stands holding flowers. I try to smile, "Raoul!" The brightness leaves his face. "Christine." He walks to me, concerned, "What happened to you?" He touches my cheek gently.

I turn my face away; "It's nothing… I was clumsy and I tripped. He drops the flowers and takes my hands, "Falling did this to you?" I cannot look him in the eyes, he'll see right through me. "I had an accident. It's nothing, Raoul. Please let's not speak of it. It was silly, really, and quite embarrassing…" I look at him then. He's not buying it.

He says worried, "All right… We'll discuss it later." He smiles, "And now, happy birthday." He picks up the flowers, "These are for you." I gasp, "They're beautiful, Raoul, thank you." He grins, "That's not all. Come let's sit. That uptight uncle of yours is not around is he?" I wince at the lie I had told him, "No, I'm not expecting him until this evening." He leads me to a bench, "Good."

We sit down and he reaches into a pocket in his vest, "This is your real present." I shake my head; "The flowers were enough, Raoul. You really didn't have to." He takes my hand in his, "Of course I did. You deserve the best, Christine." He puts something wrapped in a handkerchief in my hand. "Open it, go on." I carefully unfold the fabric. I gasp at the gift. "Oh Raoul!" It was a silver chain, with a pearl pendent hanging on it." He grins broadly, "You like it?" I finger the metal, "I love it…" I say softly.

"Here let me put it on." He takes it from me. I lean away, "I can't Raoul." Hurt flickers across his face, "But why? Oh your uncle? Don't worry about him. You can take it off before he returns. He'll never know." I shake my head; "It's… not that, Raoul." He frowns, "Then what is it, Christine? Tell me." I look down; "This is a very nice gift, Raoul… I… What does it mean? I don't-" He says, "It means I love you, Christine."

I want to cry. Why did he have to be so nice? He brushes my cheek with his fingers, "It means I care for you." I stand up, crying now; "I have to go, Raoul." He stands up and grabs my hand, "Christine, wait. What's wrong?" I pull away from him, "Let me go, please. Let me go." He pulls me to him gently, "Not until you tell me what's upset you. Did I say something? Do something?" He's being so gentle. Why? Why him? I can't bear to look at him. Don't break his heart. He puts a hand on my arm; "You don't have to take the gift if you don't want… I didn't know it would upset you."

I shake my head; "It's not you… It's… I can't…" He pulls me to his chest, wrapping his arms around me, "Shhh… don't cry. What's wrong? You can tell me. Let me help you." I sob into his chest, letting him hold me. Tell him. Tell him everything. Let him take you away from all of this. What was holding me back? It was Erik. I couldn't get him out of my head. How could I leave him? He was all I had known for so long.

Raoul's arms tighten around me, holding me closer. I look over Raoul's shoulder to the house. I see someone move away from the window. Erik. He was watching. It makes me cry harder. I pull away from Raoul. "I have to… I have to go." He shakes his head, sad and confused, "No… don't. What's wrong, Christine? Tell me." He takes my hands in his. "Don't Raoul. Please…"

I tear out of his grasp and run to the house crying. Raoul follows me. "Christine wait!" I pull open the door. Raoul catches it and follows me in, "Stop and talk to me." I turn to him, "No, you can't come in here. You have to leave!" He shakes his head, "Not until you explain all of this. What's gotten into you?" I look around the foyer. Where was Erik? Raoul advances towards me, "I just want to make you happy, Christine. I love you. You're worrying me." I shake my head, "No, no you don't… You can't." I have to save him. I can't let Erik hurt him. _You will never be safe. Raoul will never be safe. _

I take a deep breath, "You don't understand. Eri- My uncle, he… he won't let me." He frowns, "This is about your uncle?" I look down, "He's… he's not my uncle, Raoul. He's… I don't know what he is, but you don't understand… He can't find you, he can't see you. He'll be angry. He'll… He'll kill you." Raoul backs away, "What are you saying? You lied to me, Christine? Why?" I shake my head; "I was trying to… protect you. He couldn't know." Raoul says softly, "He doesn't have to."

I sigh, "He already does know." Raoul interrupts, "Your face, your hands. He did that?" I look away, "It doesn't matter now. You have to go before he comes." Raoul shakes his head; "I'm not leaving you, Christine. Not with that monster." He holds out his hand, "Come… come with me. I'll keep you safe from him. He'll never find us." I stare at his hand. Take it. Leave this place. Just give him your hand and it will all be over. "Christine, I won't let him hurt you. I'll fight him myself. He won't hurt you anymore."

No more running from him in fear. But how could I leave him? How could I leave the man who had taken me in after Father died? But he didn't just take you in. He took you away from your life. "Your speak bravely, my boy. Do you know what you speak of when you say you will fight me?" I gasp and turn to the stairs. Erik stands there, his hand on the balcony, his cloak billowing around him, his ever-present mask firmly in place. I look past his towering presence to the sword strapped to his waist.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Raoul looks too, and moves to my side. Erik begins to descend down the stairs. "Erik… Raoul is leaving." Raoul moves in front of me. "Was he?" Erik's voice drips in sarcasm. "It's a shame he can't stay…" Raoul puts a hand on my arm, "I'm taking her with me." Erik laughs, "Are you now? Interesting… How does Christine feel about that I wonder?" I look at Erik, pleading with my eyes. Don't do this. Raoul pulls me closer to him, "You've hurt her, you monster, her face is bruised. Her hands are bandaged."

Erik pauses on the steps, "True… Perhaps you should have considered the consequences of your actions. She only took the punishment for your sins… And her hands, fool, were of her own doing… But really this isn't about who gets Christine. This is about who Christine chooses." Raoul says darkly, "And you really think she would stay with you?"

"I only know what I see in her eyes." Raoul glances to me, "What? Fear?" Erik begins down the stairs once more, "Only fear of what she feels… I see lust, want, need. Ask her. Ask her what I make her feel." Raoul looks at me. His eyes show hurt. "If you touched her." Erik chuckles, "You'll what? Christine. Come here. Come to me. This boy tries my patience." I can't make myself move. If I don't he'll kill Raoul. If I do go to him… I turn to Raoul, "Leave, I'll be all right. You have to leave."

Raoul creases his eyebrows, "No, I'm not leaving without you." I look to Erik, "He'll never let us go, Raoul. If you leave now he won't hurt you. I can't let him hurt you. This is the only way." Raoul puts a hand on my cheek, "I'll come back for you. I'll bring others." I shake my head, "You can't. You must forget me, forget all of this. You'll never be free if we're together." Erik has calmly made his way down to the bottom of the stairs.

I kiss Raoul on the cheek, then move away from him to Erik. "Christine, don't." Raoul says behind me. Erik takes my arm. I close my eyes. Please leave, Raoul, please leave. I'm doing this for you. Please leave. I avoid Erik's eyes. I couldn't look at him. I couldn't face him. "It would seem she has made her decision." Erik sneers at Raoul. He begins up the stairs again, calmly pulling me with him.

I focus on the steps, trying to keep up with Erik's fast pace, and not trip. "Let her go." Raoul says fiercely. I close my eyes. Don't Raoul. I gasp as Erik lifts me into his arms then. "Let her go? She came to me willingly, boy… But if you insist." I cry out as he holds me over the stair railing. I cling to him, "Please stop Erik."

He ignores my pleas, "Tell him, Christine. Tell him to leave and never come back." I desperately hold onto the folds of Erik's cape, "Put me down. Please put me down." Out of the corner of my eye I see Raoul has moved halfway up the stairs. "Tell him, Christine." I close my eyes, "Go Raoul. Don't return. You have to leave." Raoul says bravely, "I won't let him hurt you. I love you, Christine." Erik loosens his grip on me. I cry out. Erik growls, "Leave, fool. Do you want me to let go?" I look to Raoul sadly; "If you love me… then you'll leave."

Raoul looks from me to Erik, and back to me. He shakes his head, "I… I won't let him take you." He looks at Erik, "Let this be between you and I. Leave her out of this. She shouldn't have to choose you…" He swallows bravely, "…to save me." I cry, "No Raoul. He'll kill you." Erik looks at me then, "You're foolish, boy." He pulls me over the railing to him. I bury my face in his cape. He say soothingly, "There, there now. Don't be frightened." He sets me down on my own feet. I cling to him still. He whispers, "I would have never dropped you, love…" He tips my chin up, so I look at him.

"Your young friend is about to make a grave mistake." I try to turn my face to look at him, but Erik firmly keeps my gaze on him. "Perhaps… we could persuade him not to." He brushes a tear from my cheek with his gloved hand. "This is his last chance." He speaks softly, too softly for Raoul to hear. "You don't want to see him hurt do you?" I shake my head, "No." He nods, "No, I knew you wouldn't. Then tell him, Christine. Tell him that you've given your love to me. Tell him that you've given yourself to me."

I swallow hard and look at Raoul. He's frozen on the steps staring at us. I look down. Why wouldn't he just leave? Why did he have to hear this? I close my eyes for a second then open them and look up to Erik. "Christine?" I hear Raoul's hurt voice. I shudder, "I'm with Erik, now, Raoul." Raoul says disbelieving, "You can't mean that, Christine. Do not lie to him to save me… I know you love me. You would never be with someone who mistreated you." I don't dare look away from Erik's eyes.

"You heard her. She's mine now." He turns to Raoul swiftly, angry, "Get out! Leave now or I will kill you in front of her!" Raoul backs away. He looks crushed and afraid. I turn away. I can't look at him. I hear footsteps down the stairs and the door slam. In the next moment Erik has me pressed into the wall, "Why did you bring him here? Do you know what you've done!" I gasp, "He followed me. I didn't know what to do!" Erik looks away disgusted, "Why did you come back? I told you to leave."

I say defensively, "You said only to return if I meant to stay." He snarls, "As if you plan to stay." I look down hurt, "But I do…" I look up to him, "Don't you see? I chose you, Erik. You, not Raoul. What more can I do to make you see?" His eyes seem to flash with fire, "You only chose me to save him." He hisses. New tears stream down my face, "No! I mean… yes; I didn't want to see him hurt. But I wouldn't have chosen you if I didn't…" His eyes narrow, "If you didn't what, Christine?" His voice is harsh, demanding. I look down and say softly, "If I didn't… If I didn't… care for you, Erik. If I didn't want to be with you, but I do… I do."

He sighs and looks down almost in defeat, "Fine, Christine. Just know that now you can never go back... Come, we must pack. We're not safe here. He'll come back with others." He holds out his hand. I take it.

_Phantom's POV_

Thoughts raced through my mind. I had thought she was going say she loved me. She _cared _for me. Fine. If that was how it would be. Let her only care for me. An eternity together might change her mind. How could I expect her to love this face? Would I ever feel her lips on mine? Her bare skin against mine? I tighten my hand around hers. I would indeed. I would show her what her decision was to reap. I would bed her, claim her, and she would be mine in every way. Soon. It would be soon.

But she was so young. Could she deal with the emotions? I was almost certain she had done nothing with Raoul of that nature. Their love was so innocent, so childish. And now I was dragging her into an adult relationship. Would she be willing? Would I have to force myself on her? No, she would never forgive me. I would never forgive myself. I could not hurt her. Had she even kissed passionately? I would have to teach her so much, with so little that I knew of passion. My only experience was from those I had paid… Those times had been short and to the point, no time for tenderness or love. It could not be like that with her.

I stop at her room, "I trust I can leave you to gather your things?" She nods silently. I sigh, "Good. I will return shortly. Please be sure to pack warm clothing. Where we are going it can get quite cold."

I leave her. I doubted she would try climbing out the window now. Besides there was no time to lose, I couldn't be bothered waiting for her. If she left, she left. There was nothing I could do to convince her to stay. Why she was still here puzzled me. Why didn't she leave with that fool? Had she only stayed to save him? No matter, I suppose. She could learn to love me. She would have no other choice. Fear can turn to love.

I stop in my study and quickly drop things into a leather sack. I might have a chance to return later to gather more things, for now we would travel lightly. I quickly go down to the underground portions of the house. I gather the things I had brought to her temporary room down there, her letters, her doll, her journal. I collect some musical scores I had written. I stare at the wedding dress on the mannequin. I run my hand over the white satin material. She would have been so beautiful in it. There was no time now, though. Everything had changed. This life was over.

I pack some of my own clothes. Anything else would have to wait. Time was of the essence and we needed to leave now. I go back upstairs to her room and knock on the door. I open it not waiting for her to say anything, half expecting her not to be there "Are you ready?" She is sitting on her bed, a chest at her feet. I sigh… Well, I hadn't told her to pack lightly, and there was no time to change it now. I put my own leather bag over my shoulder and pick up her luggage, "Follow me. Come."

We travel by carriage. I let her ride in the back, out of the wind, while I drive the horses. I take all back roads; there was the risk of being seen in daylight. It is dusk when we arrive. The opera house is buzzing with activity. A show was to begin soon. I leave the carriage outside the stables; the help would know what to do with them. They would know it was me. I pick up the baggage, "Follow me, quickly." I whisper.

Christine is looking around in amazement. I quickly lead her down to the depths of the opera house. I knew the route by heart now. I feel her hand on my shoulder. It was dark; she didn't know the way. I slow down so not to lose her. Finally we reach the gondola. I load my burden and help her in. "What is this place, Erik?" She whispers in wonder. I begin to move the boat away from the shore, "It is the opera house, Christine, surely you know. We were just here." She settles into the bottom of the boat, "Yes, but… never down here before."

I say quietly, "I grew up here, Christine. I come here often still. The managers know of me, as does one of the ballet instructors. No one will find us here. They know enough to hold their tongue." She looks down, "You mean this is where we are going to live." I sigh, "For the time being, yes." She wraps her arms around herself, "But it's so cold. So dark." I wince, "The reason I told you to pack warmly. The darkness… you will grow accustomed to it. This is only temporary."

She draws her knees to herself, making herself seem smaller. The opera above starts. She looks up at the sound of music, "The music. You can hear the music." She smiles. I had almost forgotten what her smile looked like. I had been so harsh with her. I grimace at the bruise on her cheek. I had lost my temper with her. I had frightened her, terrified her, and still she was with me. Still she had stayed with me.

I let the boat run up on the shore where we would stay. Here I kept an almost second home. I had an organ, library, and bedroom. I silently curse. I had only one bed. I sigh, no matter she would have it. I needed little sleep anyway. I easily lift her onto the ground. I keep my hand on her waist, "Stay with me while I light some candles. You must be careful down here." She clings to my arm as I illuminate the room with soft light. I gently push her down into a chair, "Sit here for a moment. I'll unload your things."

I carry her trunk to the bedroom. She should have privacy. I put my own bag in the library. It would do for now. She is huddled in the chair shivering. It was too cold down here for her. She could not stay here. She was never even meant to come here. I take off my cape and sit in a chair opposite her. "Come here." I say softly. She looks at me, her eyes wide with fear or maybe nervousness. She pauses only a moment then stands up and walks to stand in front of me. I take her hand and pull her down onto my lap. She's tense. I wrap my cape around her and bring her closer to me, "Let me hold you. You'll be warmer that way."

I rest my chin on top of her head. "Erik?" She whispers. I close my eyes, enjoying the fact that she was so close to me, "Hmm?" She shifts in my arms, getting more comfortable, I assume, "What happens now?" I open my eyes. What did happen now? I sigh, "I don't know, Christine. I'll figure out something. We won't have to stay here long, I promise." She says, "It's not that… I… what happens with us?" I find her hand with mine. I hold it stroking her knuckles with my thumb. Finally I say, "Everything."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

_Christine's POV_

I begin to relax in his arms, in spite of myself. We sat in silence. Strains of the opera music the only sound. I wasn't so cold now. His cape was drawn around me; his arms kept me close to his warm body. He says, "You must be hungry. After the opera I will go get us some food." I say, "That's fine." He says, "The, uh, the bedroom is the corner is yours. I've put your things in there. There's a wardrobe you can store them in." I frown, "Where is your room?" Why did I want to know where he would sleep? I blush; glad he cannot see my face.

"Well, your room is mine normally. So I will retire in the library." I sit up a little, "No, Erik. You should have what is yours. I'll sleep in the library." He sighs, "I refuse to argue with you about this. The room is yours, no more talk of it." I say quietly, "Thank you." He wraps his arms tighter around me. A fluttering rises in my stomach. Why did I get nervous when he drew me to him? His grasp on me is strong, firm… I realize I want more of it. I feel my face heat up. I wanted him to touch me.

I try to think of something else. I should be ashamed thinking like that… But I wasn't. I felt nervous, but not ashamed. What would it be like to kiss him, I wonder? Raoul's kisses were chaste, he always held back. I had a feeling Erik wouldn't hold back. Erik wouldn't be chaste. Erik meant to make love, I was sure of that. But what would that be like? Would he wear his mask still? I wouldn't know what to do. Would he be mad I didn't have experience? Surely, he knew I had never with Raoul. I had told him, surely he believed me. Would I still be able to please him if I didn't know what to do? Had he ever…?

"Are you all right, Christine?" I shake those thoughts out of my head, "What do mean?" He chuckles softly; "You just keep fidgeting. Are you warm enough now?" No. But I say, "Yes, I am. Thank you." He loosens his grip on me, and I stand up. He stands too and wraps his cape around my shoulders. "There. You shouldn't be cold at all now." I hold the cape around me with one hand. I look to my room, "I think I will put my dresses away. I don't want them to wrinkle." He sits down again, "Fine, Christine. I've lit candles in there. If you should require anything please ask."

I walk to the entrance of my room and nod, "I will." The room is small but certainly big enough for me. The bed frame is shaped like a large bird, a swan perhaps. Red satin sheets rest over it. The bed looked largely unslept in, which didn't surprise me. He never seemed to sleep anyway. I knelt down and opened my truck. I hang the dresses up in the armoire that stood in the corner. Cloaks of Erik's were already in there, along with the dark suits he wore. I lean in and breathe in the scent of the dark fabric. It was familiar. Undoubtedly Erik.

I see a pile of letters on my bed and pick them up. They were my letters from Raoul. He had saved them. He had brought them here. Why? I sit on the swan bed and open the first one. I smile at Raoul's words. Was he really gone from me forever? I hated feeling so confused. How can I miss Raoul, yet form thoughts of Erik touching me? I had gone with Erik, but for what reason? Only to save Raoul?

Erik was all I had for so long after my father died. He was the one who woke me from my nightmares. He was the one who cared for me. I shiver, but for how long had he planned our lives together? This is what he had meant all along. From when I was a little girl, he had decided, I was his. I had been so blind, so innocent. I trusted him, gave him my mind, my soul. I would never be free from him. This was the best way. It was better if we were together. I could never be with Raoul if Erik was in my mind.

I fold the letter back up again and place it with the others. I had told Raoul to go. I shouldn't dwell on him now. _Just know that now you can never go back... _Erik had said. He was right. Raoul would never take me back. I had broken his heart. I had hurt him. It would be better this way. It had to be. For this is what life would be from now on. Life would be lived with Erik. I put the letters in my empty trunk and close it. I look to the door. Erik was out there, probably waiting for me.

Would he want to lie together tonight? I look to the swan bed. Was this where it would happen? What would it be like? Would he be gentle? Would I like it, would it feel good, or would it hurt? I shiver at the thought. Perhaps he meant to wait until I was older or until we wed. Did he still plan to make me his wife? Or would that not matter anymore? I sigh. I shouldn't torment myself with these questions. What happened would happen when it did, and there was nothing I could do about it.

I walk back out into the main room. Erik sits where I left him studying a scroll of something. He looks up, "Ah, good. There's something I wanted to show you. Come." I obediently walk to stand behind his chair. I peer over his shoulder. Drawn on the scroll is a diagram of some sort. "What is it?" He runs his hand over the paper, smoothing it out, "I drew it. It's a map of this labyrinth. You should never leave this part of it. I've set up many traps, which I don't want you to fall into. This map details all of them."

"Why do you have traps?" He looks up at me, "To keep people away. There are many curious people here in this opera house that often try to get a glimpse of the opera ghost." I frown, "Opera ghost? Is that you?" He looks down, "Phantom of the opera, opera ghost… those are the names they know me by. They know nothing of Erik." I say, "But why? Do they really think you're a spirit?" He sighs, "I grew up in these hallways. I've haunted their opera for many years. They do as I instruct, and I keep peace with them. It's how it's always been. This was my only home for many years, Christine."

I leave the back of his chair and curl into the chair opposite him. I felt lonely, and sad. What kind of life had he known? He must have been so alone, so scared. He's studying me from where he sits. His face is serious. "Don't pity me, Christine." He knew my thoughts. "None of that matters now."

As the night wore on, Erik left and returned with food. It wasn't until I tasted it did I realize how hungry I was. I was famished, and ate more than my fill. Erik only picked at his food, barely bringing anything to his mouth. He never ate. Never ate in front of me, at least.

When I'd had my fill Erik stood up. "We shall retire for the night now. Tomorrow morning I arrange for you to bathe. Do you require anything?" My heart pounds as I stand up and tell him no. Did he mean to sleep with me tonight? He leans down and brushes his lips over my cheek, "Good night, Christine." My mind flashes to earlier in the day when he had done the same. Good bye he had said then. What a different place we were at now.

I dress for bed in the privacy of my room. I was quite relieved he meant for us to sleep separately. Though, I couldn't help feeling disappointed in a way. I force myself to put aside those thoughts. I extinguish the light in the room save for one candle beside my bed. I make myself comfortable under the fine covers of the bed. It was so cold still. Closing my eyes, I try to relax, and stay warm.

Time goes by. I felt restless; I couldn't sleep. I kept playing the events of the day over and over again in my mind. I was still shivering from the cold, crisp air that settled around me. Would I ever be warm?

I hear the door open and tense. In the shadow of the candlelight I see Erik's tall form step into the room. He quietly makes his way to the boudoir and opens it. He rustles around for a moment, and I remember his clothes were in there. I try to be still, and let him think I'm asleep. I watch as he sits on the edge of the bed. His gaze goes to my face and I close my eyes. "I shouldn't have brought you here." He whispers. Did he know I was awake? Should I answer him?

He moves closer, "Look at you, you're shivering." So, he knew I wasn't asleep. I turn on my side to face him more. "I'm fine, really." He sighs, "If you'd like… I can make arrangements for you to sleep upstairs. There are ballet dormitories and such you could stay in. Or with a bit of persuasion I could get the leading soprano's dressing room for you. It's too cold and wet down here, you'll catch your death." I say quietly, "What about you?"

"I'm quite accustomed to these living conditions. I can go up and collect you in the daytime. No one will have to know you're there… save for those who have to." I wrap my arms around myself and try to burrow deeper into the soft sheets, "I'd like that." He puts his hand on my hip, "Good. I will speak with Madame Giry in the morning then." His hand lingers on my side, and then he starts to stand up. I grab his hand, "Wait, don't go."

In the dim light I can see surprise cross his face then disappear quickly. I move farther onto the bed, "Stay with me. Keep me warm. Please? It's so cold." I hear him let out a slow breath, "Are you sure, Christine?" My stomach flutters, "Yes." He says carefully, "Have you ever shared your bed with a man before?" I shake my head no. He studies me a moment then says, "I will stay with you then, but remember it is you who _invited _me into your bed." I hold my breath; "I don't want…" The words catch in my throat. I swallow and try again, "I don't want to..." He lays down next to me, careful not to touch me, "No, not tonight."

He reaches to the bedside table and puts out the candle with his fingers. I move closer to him, and feel for his body in the dark. Why did he have to put out the light? I always slept with a light. I find his solid chest and curl into it. His arms go around me, and bring more than warmth, but security now.

He gently turns me so that my back is against him. His hand moves to settle on my stomach. I tense. He whispers, "Relax. It's just touch. Nothing more." I shift uncomfortably. "Please don't-" I whisper. He cuts me off, ignoring me. "Close your eyes." He says quietly but firmly. "Let yourself feel…" He says. I let my eyes flutter shut. He would do what he wanted. I had asked him into my bed; I could only lie there and let him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

When I wake up I am alone. A sinking realization spreads over me. You slept with him. You asked him to sleep with you. There was no sign of him now… I check my sleeping gown; it was all intact. He had only held me. Relief washes over me. I had wanted to keep warm… that was all. Right? I should have known it would have led to more than I bargained for. I sit up and stifle a yawn. In the corner of the room a large basin is filled with water. I walk to it and dip my fingers in. It was warm. A warm bath would be nice, indeed.

I undress, unwrap the bandages from my hands as well, so not to get them wet. Sighing, I sink into the hot water. I wash myself, soothing tired muscles. At the foot of the bed a tray of fresh fruits had been left. He had thought of everything. When the water cools I get out, towel off, and redress. I study my hands. They looked a little better. Clean anyway. He would have to dress them later.

I look at the rumpled sheets of the bed. It's then I notice the piece of paper there. I pick it up, and recognize Erik's handwriting.

_Christine, _

_I've gone to make living arrangements for you. I've drawn water for you to have a bath, and left breakfast. I will return shortly._

_Erik_

_Phantom's POV_

I waited in Madame Giry's corners for her to return from her morning class. Normally I would just leave a note, but I felt that under these circumstances I should confront her personally. She doesn't notice me when she first comes in. She goes to her vanity and begins to fix her hair. I step out from the corner. She gasps when she sees me in the mirror. Clutching her hand to her chest she turns to me, "Monsieur." I bow slightly, "Madame."

She looks around uncomfortably, "I was not expecting you…" I move towards her, "I'll make this short. I wouldn't want to keep you from your lessons. The young girl I was with the other night, do you remember?" She nods, "I told no one of her, Monsieur, as you asked." I stop in front of her, "I would expect no less… Madame, I have brought her here to the opera house. She is underneath for now, which brings me to why I've come to you."

"I've decided to resume living here again, and the cold dampness of the underground will not suit her. I wish for her to have a room up here, Madame. Her own room. Her occupancy is to be kept private. Do you understand these requests?" She nods, "Of course, Monsieur. I will see what I can do." I nod deeply, "Then I await the location of her room."

I leave silently, moving quickly. I was risking being seen by walking through these hallways in the daytime. I slip through a secret passage and begin to make my way back down to Christine. I hope she had slept well. Holding her in my arms last night had been… ecstasy. I had left her when she fell asleep; afraid I wouldn't be able to control myself. She had wanted me to hold her, yet she still resisted my touch. No matter. It was a start, if only a start.

Weeks passed, melting away into months. Christine moved to her new room. Every morning I faithfully went above to collect her so we could spend the day together. Sometimes I read to her, sometimes she read to me. I played music for her. She refused to play any instrument; she refused to sing. She was growing distant, moping silently, her eyes giving away her sadness. She missed the boy. She missed that damned boy. I could fulfill her needs much better than he. Didn't she see that? She would never want for anything with me. I had left her alone. I had barely touched her even.

Finally, I could take it no more. She was sitting across from me, reading quietly to herself. I stood up and offered my hand, "Come. We're going out." She looks up at me surprised. "Where?" I shrug, "We'll go for a ride somewhere. I can see you feel stifled all shut up down here."

I take her to the stables. She watches while I prepare a horse and carriage. I drive all the back roads of Paris, opting for the scenic view, but also the path we were least likely to be seen on. She sits quietly next to me watching the world pass us by. She touches my arm when a small grassy clearing comes into view, "Oh let's stop here. I'd like to walk some if you don't mind." I don't hesitate to pull over.

I hang back as she wades through the grass. She seems complacent, peaceful, calm. I had been right. Sunshine and fresh air were doing her good. She turns around to look at me and calls, "Erik." I make my way towards her; happy she wanted my company. We walk slowly, contemplatively. "Let's sit here." She points to a shady spot under an oak tree. I spread my cloak over the grass for us to sit on. She sits, spreading her dress around her. "Erik." She says softly. "I…" She trails off. "Yes, Christine, what is it?"

She sighs, "I wish we could go back… home." I frown, "Are you not happy at the Opera House?" She looks down; "It's just I feel as though the whole world has gone on living without us. I miss being a part of it. I miss my old life, my room, the gardens, music lessons…" She trails off. "Raoul?" I ask. She looks at me then, "I do miss him, Erik." I look out over the grassy field. Idly I twist and fold a piece of grass. "But why?" I say finally.

She doesn't say anything. I already knew why. I sigh, "And how can you miss music lessons? You refuse to play." She says softly, "It's not the same here. I can't play when I feel so crushed by all the darkness down there. Honestly, it's maddening. I don't know how you stay down there." I stand up and say briskly, "Christine, there is not a thing I can do. My hands are tied. Had you not told that fool everything, had not led him into my house, we would still be there."

I stand up, "Come… we should return. Dusk is upon us." She stands too and walks silently to the carriage. She stops suddenly, "Why won't you let me go, Erik? You say you love me, you say you have all these plans and intentions… but you seem quite content to treat me as a child… reading aloud to me from silly books. If this is what you intend for the rest of our lives, you should note I'm against it."

I sigh, "I treat you as a child, because you still are one my dear, but if you think you can fulfill a woman's duties, a _wife's _duties, then so be it. Don't let me hold you back." She says, "That's not fair, Erik. You know what I meant." I shake my head, "No, no, my love. You're right. I tire of waiting for you to grow up. Well, do not fret. No more silly, childish games anymore. I was planning on waiting a while, years if I had to, to pressure any of a woman's responsibilities on you. I was going to wait until you seemed comfortable with it, until you weren't nervous or shy."

"Erik-," She tries to interrupts. I continue though, "But it seems you think you are ready, so I won't hesitate to-," She says fiercely, "Erik, stop it." I stare at her, fuming, "Oh, but I won't. You can be sure of that." I non-too-gently help her onto the carriage. The ride back to the Opera House was going to be a long, silent one.

_Christine's POV  
_

I sat tensely next to him. He keeps his eyes on the road, not once glancing my way. I sigh. "What?" He says coldly. I study my hands; "I didn't say anything." Out of the corner of my eye I see him look at me, "But you want to. Go on, what is it?" I say quietly, "I don't why you're so angry. I just asked you a question." He stops the horse and turns to face me completely, "Tell me you love me, Christine. Tell me you love me so I can dream…peacefully." He sighs and says simply, "Of course you don't love me. But you will. You will."

I look down, "Erik, it's not…" I stumble around my words, "It's not like that. I… I don't know if I can ever… If I will ever love you like… like you say you love me." His face falls. I say quietly, "How can I now, Erik? How can I? It's not like it was. We're not the same anymore. Too much has happened." He says calmly, "Of course it's the same, Christine. I've only eliminated the distractions. Don't let your mind lie to you. You do love me."

I turn away from him. It was no use. I could not make him understand. "Take me back." I tell him. "Please, I just want to go back." Neither of us says another word. It is dark by the time we reach the Opera House. I finally break the icy silence, "I can find my way to my room by myself." He ignores me and takes my hand as to lead me himself. I pull away, "I said I'll be all right, Erik. Let me go, please." He holds my hand firmly and leads the way. I give up and let him.

It takes my eyes getting used the dark before I realize we're not going back to my room. We were headed to his lair. I sigh, tired, and pull on his hand, "No, Erik. Take me to my room. I want to go to my room and sleep." He doesn't look at me, "Not now, Christine." I plead, "Now, Erik. Please. I'm tired. I want to lie down." He turns to me, his face a mask of annoyance, "I said later, Christine. I'll take you to your room later. There's still much left to discuss, Christine."

I shake my head, "Then it can wait until the morning, Erik. I wish to retire now." He sneers, "And I wish to talk instead." I follow him stubbornly, purposely stumbling and walking slowly. He doesn't seem to notice or even care. Only when we finally do reach his dark underground home does he let go of my hand. He moves swiftly, purposely, lighting candles, then sits at his organ and nervously shuffles his papers.

I stand near a shelf overflowing with books and music. "Are you going to ignore me now?" I question. He pauses his rearranging and looks at me. "No. I'm not. Come, come over here, Christine." I stand still, making no move to go to him. He holds out his hand, beckoning, "Come, child, don't be shy." He stands up and gestures to his chairs, "Let us sit and be comfortable. Please." He's being polite, gentle.

I sit gingerly on the edge of a chair then sink back into it, tired. Erik sits too and folds his hands, resting them on his knee. "Christine." He says firmly. I settle my eyes on his face, "Erik." He shakes his head, "No, just listen for a minute." He fidgets for a moment then goes on, "I… I fear I may have taken a somewhat… harsh approach in… Well, I hadn't planned to be so forceful when I asked-_told_ you that we were to… marry." I sigh and look away, "I can't talk to about this right now, Erik."

He puts up a hand, "Hear me out, Christine. None of this was supposed to happen, you see. I hadn't planned it like this. I had always imagined it differently from this… you'd be older… we wouldn't be here… no matter now, though. What I wanted to tell you tonight was…" He trails off. Sighing he stands up and walks over to me. He crouches down in front of me. "Christine…" He whispers. He takes my hand and presses something small and hard in it. "Christine, put it on. Put it on." I open my hand and see a small gold ring.

I nearly drop it. He takes it from me and slips it on my finger. "There, you see? Isn't it beautiful? Do you like it Christine?" His voice is soft, but I can only hear the danger behind it. Hot tears are sliding down my cheeks. He brushes them away with his fingertips. "I love you, Christine. Say you love me. Say it. Say that you'll be mine." I pull my hand out of his. "I can't, Erik. I can't."

His face darkens, "I'm giving you a choice, Christine." His voice is deep now. "I'm being nice. Think of how much happier you'll be if you just agree to be mine, instead of me having to force myself on you all the time. Think of it. Let's try it again, Christine. Say it. Say it and be happy." I shudder and shake my head, "No, Erik, no."

He looks down and sighs deeply. "You reject me. All I've done for you… and you reject me." I shake my head, "No, Erik. It's not; I just can't right now. Just not now Erik. That's all." He looks up at me, "But, Christine, you said yourself today… you're no longer a child." He gives me a small sad smile and whispers; "I'm not waiting anymore."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"Erik don't do this." I say. "It's too soon…" He shrugs, "What difference will it make whether it's now or years from now?" I stare at the ring on my finger, "But it will make a difference, Erik. It will."

He sighs, "I can't wait forever, Christine. I'm tired of waiting; I've been denied this for too long. I'm not complaining though, you see. You've made it worth it, Christine. This whole time… I was only waiting for you. For you, Christine. I knew, from the moment I saw you, I knew you were the one who could love me, who could save me. You came so willingly, so eager. In your mind you were only learning music, but really you were learning me. You were growing accustomed to me… to my mask. And now… you don't even see the mask. You don't. I had only to sing to you and you fell under my spell. And now, now can't you see how we're meant to be together. We have the same soul, Christine."

I stare at him horrified. We weren't the same. We weren't. He covers my hands with his, "Come Christine. It's time." I draw away from him, "Time for what, Erik? I want to go now. I told you. I want to go to my room." He says soothingly, "Shhh, Christine. It's all right. Don't look so worried. Trust me." Panic rises inside me, and I feel sick. I stand up suddenly, ready to leave. He stands up too, "No, no, Christine. Calm down." I push against him, "Let me go, please. I have to… I need to leave."

He wraps his arms around me, crushing me into his chest. I want to push him away but I find myself clinging to him. He was my protector, he wasn't supposed to let this happen. He wasn't supposed to be the one doing this. I wanted him to take me away from this, not to it. I realize I'm crying. I barely notice when he lifts me into his arms. I sob into his shoulder and let him carry me. I don't fight him when he lies me down on his bed.

I let him kiss my cheeks and eyes, as though he's trying to kiss away my tears. It's not until I feel his own tears dropping onto my face do I open my eyes. His mask is gone, he must have taken it off. He meets my eyes with his, and all I see is sadness staring back at me. His hand brushes over my forehead then down over my eyes gently forcing them closed. I feel the warmth of his body draw closer. His lips graze over my forehead, over my eye, across my cheek, then settle softly on my lips. Surprised I nearly jerk away. Before I can his lips are gone, replaced with his cheek.

"Forgive me, Christine." He whispers, his voice cracking through his tears. "Forgive me." He turns his face to kiss my lips again. I can't stop from trembling. "My wife. My beautiful wife." He whispers. The words float in my mind. Everything seemed foggy. Push him away. Push him off of you. His eyes, his sad eyes. I feel his tongue slide across my bottom lip. I move away, "Stop, Erik. Please, I don't want to… do this."

I try to sound strong, forceful, but I my voice sounds weak and shaky. He says, "Don't think, Christine. Give into it. Just give in. Let yourself be free." Fresh hot tears run down my face, and I can't stop them. "We don't have to do this now, Erik. Let's wait, please let's wait." He says firmly, "But it's our wedding night, Christine." I shake my head sadly, "But we're not married, Erik. We're not married." He rests his hand on the side of my face, "But we are, Christine. Husband and wife, we are, you and I. Together forever. You have a ring; I pledged my love to you… That's all a wedding is, Christine. Say you love me. Say it so we can truly be one."

I look down and put my face to my hands. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It couldn't happen like this. "Don't cry." He says softly. He draws me to him, trying to comfort me. I push him away, "No, I don't want you." My weak protests can't keep him away. He holds me to him, "There's no one but me, Christine. Only me." I whisper, pleading, "Please, Erik. Not tonight please. I'll stay with you. I'll do anything else. Just not this."

He pulls away from me and takes my face in his hands, forcing me to look at him, "But why, Christine? Why?" I whisper, "Just give me tonight, Erik. Please. Just tonight, and every night after can be yours. I'll be yours." His eyes bore into mine. His mask is still gone, yet his deformity doesn't even stand out to me. He leans in, closing his eyes, and kisses me again. I keep my eyes open, not moving, and try to control my rapid breathing.

He says softly, "All right then. Not tonight." He pulls away, and I breathe a sigh of relief. He drops his hands from my face and sighs. "I'll take you to your room."

_Phantom's POV_

I see her to her room. She's quiet, nervous. So young… too young, maybe. I don't dare leave her alone tonight. I would watch her. She would no doubt try something. I bid her goodnight, with the same promise I would return in the morning. She watches me with sad eyes as I leave.

Only minutes later she emerges from her room, a shaky hand holding a candle. I follow her silently. To my surprise she heads not to the exits but to the rooftop. I take a risk and fall behind, opting for another route. I doubted I could follow her so silently up old, creaky stairs. I easily catch up with her again. The Paris air is bitterly cold. I have the urge to step out of the shadows and wrap my cape around her, but I remain hidden. She rests on her arms on the balcony edge, staring out into the empty streets.

A soft sound reaches my ears. It takes me a minute to realize she is crying. I want to go to her. I want to comfort her, but I don't dare reveal myself. I see her fumble with something in her hands. I inch closer to see that she has taken off her wedding ring. She stares at it, turning it round and round. Then she holds her hand over the edge and lets it fall from her palm to the streets below.

I nearly give myself away. What was she doing? I hear her say softly, "Erik. Oh, Erik." I watch horrified as she begins to climb over the edge. I don't hesitate. I rush to the side and pull her back over, "What are you doing?" I roar at her. I know I've scared her, she tries to pull away. I hold her tightly, "Christine. Christine, what were you going to do?" She sobs, "Leave me alone! Leave me be!"

I drag her away from the ledge, "You were going to jump!" She falls to the ground. I keep a hold of a her wrists, "Get up, Christine. Get up!" She cries, "No. Let me go. Please." I close my eyes, trying to control my temper. "Oh, Christine." I whisper. I open my eyes and kneel down in front of her, dropping her wrists. She scoots back, away from me.

I shake my head, "So it's come to this, Christine? Has it really come to this? You would rather die than be with me." I look down. "Am I so bad, you would rather be dead than my wife?" She's shaking. I stare at her, not wanting to believe my words. "Say something, Christine. For God's sake say something." She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.

I sigh, "Perhaps death can be arranged, Christine. If you welcome it so dearly… Yes, perhaps…" I trail off. I wanted to frighten her. I wanted her to beg me for life. I wanted to make her realize the full implications of the release she sought. Her eyes widen, "No, Erik, no. I… wasn't going to… I mean, I was, but I changed my mind. I was frightened that's all." I nod, "And you're going to be frightened some more."

She backs all the way into the railing, "Don't talk like that Erik. Please, it scares me." I stand up; "Do I scare you, Christine? Why? You invited death. You went searching for it. Go ahead then, jump. Get away from me. The ledge is right there." She shake she head, "No, I don't… I don't want to, Erik." I frown, "You don't? But, Christine, don't you remember? You were just there, so close to letting go. Remember, Christine?" I gently pull her up to stand before me. I move behind her, and nudge her towards the balcony edge, "Go on, Christine. Don't you hear the night calling you? Go join it. Dive into it."

She backs up against me, trying to get away from the edge, "Erik, stop. Please, stop. Let's go back. It's cold, Erik." She's trying to distract me, trying to make me take pity on her. I wrap my arms around her waist; "We're so close, Christine." I lean down and whisper in her ear, "So close." I feel her shudder against me. I swiftly push her forward, closing the distance between the ledge and us.

She struggles against me. I hold her close, petting her, trying to calm her. "Look down, Christine. Look down." She tries to turn around to face me, but I hold her firmly. "You must face it, Christine. You could only a moment ago. Go on, look down." I stroke the front of her neck, soothingly, "It's ok, Christine… I, the one who you run from, who you'd die to escape from… I'll protect you. I won't let you fall."

Her breathing is rapid, panicked. I sigh and relent, guiding her away from the ledge. I let her turn to me and bury her face in the folds of my cloak. I stroke her soft hair, "Don't you know, Christine?" I tilt her chin up, so she looks at me, "Even death cannot part us." Her face is tearstained and tired. She nods slightly and looks down. I trace the outline of her face.

I let her hug me again. "I'm sorry, Erik." She whispers. I don't answer, instead lift her into my arms. I slowly carry her back to my lair. She doesn't say anything, doesn't protest. She lets me lie her down on my bed. I wash away her dried tears with a wet cloth. She doesn't resist me even when I begin to remove her clothes. I leave her in her underthings and return with a nightgown.

She calmly lets me dress her, lets me tuck her in. I sit beside her, stroking her hair and face. Her eyes are half closed as she struggles to stay awake. I lean in and kiss her. I could never tire of the feel of her lips on mine. She doesn't shiver, doesn't even move. I pull away reluctantly and lie beside her, gathering her to me. I place her hand over my heart and cover it with mine.

"Erik." She murmurs. I hold her closer to me. "Erik, I wouldn't have let go." I sigh, "I know, Christine. I know."

**A/N: Ok, well, that was Chapter 13. It's getting harder to write/update now as I am currently in the middle of moving (fun). I hate doing A/N's cause I feel they kind of obstruct the story, but anyway I'm sticking this one at the end of the chapter so I don't mess up the flow of things…**

**This story _should _be wrapping up in a few chapters unless the characters take me on a ride (as they often do) and then it will be longer. Anyway, when I do complete it, I wanted to go back and do a fairly major rewrite. I would be changing things as well as adding things. (i.e. filling in chapters for when Christine was younger, since there is quite a big gap.) Also, I may add a few Leroux elements in… full-face mask, coffin, etc. **

**But since I will be adding/revising anyway, and then posting the new story here - is there anything you would suggest putting in or taking out? I also want to thank everyone for their reviews. It's always nice to hear people enjoy your work. I don't thank you as often as I should, but I do appreciate your comments! **

**Until next chapter…And let me know if you have any suggestions for the rewrite. Thanks again.**

**- Sarah**


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